A Painful Place
by Ginger4
Summary: Until the outbreak, Matilda's biggest worries were job hunting and student loan debt. That was until the dead began to rise, and after over a year of surviving on the road with her best friend Lana and Lana's big brother Joseph they found themselves helplessly locked in a train car. Turns out, it wasn't the dead they needed to be afraid of.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Tilly! Tilly! Do you hear that?"

Tilly looked up from where she dozed in the train car at Lana, who had her face pressed against a crack in the wall.

"Huh?" She shoved a piece of long, red hair out of her face and rubbed her eyes. "No, I didn't hear-"

A gunshot rang out, a little too close to the train car for comfort.

Then another.

And another.

People were screaming.

"What do you see, Lana?" Tilly hopped up and ran to where her best friend stood as the gunshots continued.

"I… I can't see much, but there's definitely some chaos happening."

Tilly pushed her out of the way and pressed a blue eye to the crack. "Dammit, why can't this thing have a window or something? I can't see- Hey! Hey, help!" she called as she saw the flash of someone running past.

She felt a large hand quickly cover her mouth and spun around to see Lana's brother Joseph.

"Till, shut up! We don't know who is out there."

"Well, if it's one of the Termites they aren't going to give a shit if we're yelling. It's nothing new to them, but if it's someone else we need to let them know we're in here."

"You think some white hats rode in the save the day?" Lana jabbed.

"Shut up and start yelling!" Tilly ordered.

"Can't do both, Till-"

"Just do it!" Tilly cut Joseph off.

The three of them began banging on the side of the car and yelling as loud as they could manage after nearly two days without food or water.

"Hello?" They heard a gruff man's voice from outside of the car.

"Hey! Yeah! Those fuckers locked us in here!" Lana yelled.

"Yo, Rick! There are still folk in these train cars! We can't run off and leave them here," they heard the voice call to someone else in his group.

"No time, Daryl! Let's go!"

"He's right, Rick! We have to get them out!" It was a woman's voice this time.

"Shit," Rick sighed, "Alright, just hurry."

A moment later, they heard a bang and a few obscenities as the people outside began to pry the door open. It slid open with a loud creak, and Tilly, Lana and Joseph were momentarily blinded by something they hadn't seen in a while: Sunlight.

Tilly lead the way, running toward the door as she squinted and shielded her eyes from the light with her left hand. She misjudged the distance to the door and quickly found herself falling, rather than walking, out of the door.

A strong arm reached out and caught her before she face-planted in the dirt and she looked up, gaze locking with a man with dirty, long brown hair and blue eyes. His face was bruised and covered in blood, his or someone else's, she didn't know.

They both froze as she stood off- balance with his arm around her, his other grasping a crossbow.

Lana and Joseph made much more graceful exits, and took off in the direction all of the new escapees of Terminus were headed.

"Till!" Lana yelled, "Tilly! Come on!"

Tilly and the man quickly pulled away from each other, and he grabbed her arm to guide her toward the others. "C'mon. We gotta run."

So they ran.

Tilly could see Lana and Joseph ahead in the small crowd as Daryl continued to drag her by the arm. The gunfire hadn't stopped, and she watched in horror as people dropped all around her.

"Stay low," Daryl ordered, and they crouched as best as they could while they sprinted.

She heard a scream ahead of her. She knew that voice. Tilly lifted her head and her fears were confirmed when she saw Lana was the source.

"NO!" Tilly shrieked. Joseph lay at Lana's feet, blood cascading from his head. Lana barely had time to begin weeping before a large red headed man with goatee ran and scooped her up.

"No time, sweetheart," he told her as he took off running, Lana's sobbing form bobbing in his arms.

Tears rolled down Tilly's face. She couldn't even feel her legs anymore, but they carried her along rapidly as Daryl continued to drag her toward the woods. "We have to go back! Joseph!" Tilly yelled as they crossed into the trees and slowed a little.

"No point," Daryl responded. She tried to pull her arm away, but he held on tighter forcing her to continue forward. "I'm real sorry about your friend, but he's dead." She opened her mouth to protest, but she knew he was right.

They jogged for a few more minutes until the gunshots faded. The Termites, the surviving ones anyway, didn't seem to be following them.

Daryl pulled her behind a tree and sat her down at its base as the group ahead of them stopped. "Want me to get your friend?" he asked her, a look of sympathy on his face.

Tilly nodded. Now that the adrenaline had faded she wasn't sure her voice even worked.

"What was he to you?" he asked before leaving.

"My... my..." she croaked, "my big brother. I mean, my best friend's big brother, but he-"

"I get it," Daryl patted her on the shoulder. "Lost my big brother not long ago, but I know family ain't always blood. I'm sorry."

He stood and walked toward Lana's savior. "Hey, Abraham!" The redheaded man turned, Lana still in his arms. Daryl looked at Lana and nodded toward Tilly.

Abraham seemed to understand and brought Lana over. "Oh, Matilda!" Lana cried when she saw her friend. Tilly wrapped both of her arms around her and they clung to each other as they sobbed.

When she finally regained her breath, Tilly lifted her head to look around as she wiped her face with her sleeve. The crowd that began running from Terminus had dwindled down to barely more than ten.

So many dead. Joseph was gone. But they survived.

"We survived."


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright, it's time to regroup." A slim man with curly brown hair stepped forward.

"Ah, that's the guy who wanted to leave us, " Tilly whispered to Lana. "Rick, was it?"

Lana sniffed and nodded at her friend. "Yeah, I think so."

Rick continued, "Are we all here?" He turned his head, looking over the small group.

Tilly looked to her left and saw a young Korean man running his hands over the shoulders of a pretty brunette, scanning her for any injuries. "Yeah, seems like it, " he answered.

Rick shot a quick glance at Tilly and Lana before turning to face an older woman with short, gray hair.

"Carol," he said, eyes wide. "How did you find us? I thought-"

"I did, Rick, " she interrupted. "I left, just like you told me to." The gasps of the majority of the group were audible.

_He made her leave? Kicked her out of the group?_

Daryl took a step between Rick and Carol, "What's she talking about, Rick? Told her to leave?"

Rick raised his hand to shush Daryl and he batted it away, stepping closer to the leader.

Carol put a hand on Daryl's shoulder, pulling him back from Rick, and he turned to face her. "Daryl," she said softly, "it's alright."

"Ain't alright!" Daryl yelled, looking back at Rick.

"Look, brother, I was on my way to tell you when the Governor rolled to our gates."

"Don't matter, man, you sent her out there to die? What gives you the righ-"

"No, no, he had to, " Carol lowered her head and glanced at the tall black man standing beside her.

"Anyone going to explain what the hell is going on, or are we just gonna stand around and glare at each other all afternoon?" Abraham spoke up.

Carol took a deep breath before turning to face the group. "I killed Karen and David."

"What?" Daryl backed away from Rick and turned to face her, his voice full of disbelief.

"Tyreese…" Rick began, addressing the man beside Carol.

Tyreese held up his hand. "I know, Rick. She was the first person I ran into after I escaped the prison. It was just me, Judith, Lizzie and Mika. She saved the girls when I ran off to fight some walkers. She told me about it after…" he trailed off, rethinking what he was about to say. "She told me a few days later. Said she did it to keep the virus from spreading."

"Didn't work too well, now, did it?" Rick snapped.

"No, " Tyreese answered. "No, it didn't, but I understand. I'll never agree with what she did, but I've forgiven her. She's saved my life, and Judith's. We've all had blood on our hands at one time or another. She made a call. It was the wrong one," Tyreese took a deep breath, "but at least she tried."

Tilly stared on as the rest of the group remained silent. _Is this a group I really want to be around? Killing each other? What virus?_

Rick rubbed his chin, taking in what Tyreese said. "I made a call, too. When we went on that run before the attack, I loaded a car with supplies and told her to leave. I don't want a murderer around my children."

"We're all murderers, Dad," a teenage boy in a large brown hat stepped forward, clutching a little girl to his chest. _Rick's son._

"I… Carl," Rick stammered, trying to find the right words.

"No, Dad. Like Tyreese said, we've all done things, killed the living, to protect each other. It's how we've survived this long."

Tilly looked over at Lana, who was still completely out of it. 

"He's right, Rick," a tall woman with a katana stepped next to the boy. "I'm not justifying what Carol did, but as much as she contributed to the group you owed it to her to at least bring it before the council before you sent her off to die."

"But she didn't _die_, "Rick retorted. "I knew she could survive on her own, and I did it as much to protect her from Ty as to protect us." He pointed at Tyreese, "You nearly killed _me_ when you found Karen's body, I didn't want to think about what you would do to Carol."

No one in the group had anything to say to that.

"Did anyone else know?" Daryl asked.

There was a pause before the brunette spoke up. "I did," she admitted.

"Maggie?" the man stopped rubbing her shoulders and stared at her.

"Glenn, it all just happened so fast. I opened the gate for Rick when he came back from that run. I asked where Carol was and he told me everything." She looked at Carol, "I'm sorry, Carol, but I understood why he did it. You know we care about you, but it was the best for everyone."

Carol nodded in understanding. _How is she so calm about all of this?_

"Alright, " Glenn began, "so what happens next? Are you going to send her back out there on her own again?"

Rick looked at Tyreese, then back to Carol, "No. Carl was right when he said that we all do whatever is necessary to protect the group. You're one of us. You brought Judith back to me. You stay. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"What about us?" Tilly stood, gaining the full attention of the group. They had seemingly forgotten about the outsiders in the midst of the situation with Carol. "We're not really 'one of you,' so what happens now?"

"Why don't we start with names and go from there," Daryl responded.

"Well, I'm Tilly and th-"

Daryl scoffed, "What kinda parents name their kid Tilly?"

"What kinda parents name their kid Daryl?" He tensed up a little at the mention of his parents. "My parents _named_ me Matilda. They _call_… called me Tilly." She cleared her throat and continued, "This is my best friend Lana. She just lost her brother back there, so I can't imagine she's up for chatting much right now."

"Sorry about your brother," Glenn offered. Lana just gave him a nod and went back to staring at her boots, tears still running down her cheeks.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, how many walkers have you killed?"

"Well," Matilda paused, "I lost count a couple of months after all of this shit went down. Hundreds, I'd imagine. Maybe more. Do any of you really keep track of that kind of thing?"

Rick ignored her question. "How many people have you killed?"

"Four," she answered without hesitation.

"Why?" Daryl beat Rick to the final question.

She cast a glance at Lana, "Because nobody fucks with my best friend and gets to live."


	3. Chapter 3

Rick raised an eyebrow as he studied Tilly's resolute face for a long moment.

"Alright," he nodded. "But you try anything, _anything_ stupid and I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your head."

"Got it, boss," Tilly replied, and went to help Lana off of the ground.

"What's the plan, now?" Glenn asked. "Where do we go?"

"We head toward DC," Abraham barked. "We gotta get Eugene up there so we can put an end to all this mess." He gestured toward a man sporting a mullet and a cargo vest.

"And what exactly does Billy Ray over here know about all of this?" Tilly pried.

"For your information, _ma'am_, I happen to be a scientist, and I know exactly what caused this outbreak and how to stop it," he answered.

"Care to share with the class?" Tilly wasn't buying it.

"It's classified," he snapped. "I've been communicating with officials through my sate- shit! My satellite phone! They took it when they shoved us in the train car. We have to go back!"

"No need," a young woman with dark hair and a crop top stepped forward, holding out something that resembled a brick more than a phone. "Grabbed it when I ran inside to find my gun."

"You're a lifesaver, Rosita," he thanked her. "If there's ever any way I can _repay_ your kindness just let m- _oof!" _Abraham elbowed him in the gut before he finished his sentence.

_Look at that, _Tilly thought, _a love triangle. _

Rick shook his head and held up a hand. "We can talk about DC later, but we need somewhere to hunker down for a few days while we come up with a plan."

"What about the farm?" Carol suggested.

"Yeah," Glenn agreed, "when we went back to bring what livestock were left to the prison it was clear."

Daryl spoke up, "It'll probably take us a day or two to get there, but I don't think that's a terrible plan. Hershel stuck some food and water in the basement before the heard came through. It's probably still there. Should last us a few days."

At the mention of Hershel's name, the group suddenly became more somber. Tilly looked over to Maggie and saw that she and Glenn both had tears in their eyes.

"Who is Hershel?" Lana had finally found her voice.

"Hershel is Maggie's father," Rick replied. "We were attacked while we were living in the prison and he was killed. He held us together, made us better. It was a big loss for our group." There was sorrow in his voice. "We were all separated after the attack and were on the road until we made it to Terminus." Tilly could have sworn Rick's lip was quivering. "I guess we haven't had time to mourn his loss yet."

"We should have a service," the woman with the katana suggested, "you know, when we get to the farm."

"Absolutely, Michonne," Rick nodded. "It's what he would want."

"We need a map," Glenn offered. "I don't think any of us know how to get back to the farm from here."

"There are signs hung all along the tracks with maps to Terminus," Tilly suggested.

Daryl nodded his head, "Good thinking. Those maps cover a pretty huge area, so we should be able to find it."

Then it was time to move. The group trudged toward the tracks in search of a map. What should have been an easy mile-long walk felt like it took ages to Tilly. After the craziness of the escape and losing Joseph she was beyond exhausted. A quick look at Lana proved she felt the same.

"Hey, you alright?" Tilly asked.

"You already know the answer to that," Lana replied.

"I know it's rough. I know you're exhausted and sad and a million other things right now, but we need to pull it together. Put on a brave face. We don't know these people, and we can't afford to appear weak. They don't really seem like the type to hurt us, but they could very well leave us behind if they think we're holding them back."

"Ain't gonna leave you guys, " she jumped when she heard Daryl's voice behind her. He had been in the rear of the group keeping watch while Rick led.

"Did Rick stick you back here to eavesdrop on our conversations?" Tilly accused.

"To be honest, yeah." Even as they spoke, his eyes never stopped scanning the area around them. "We don't know ya'll from Adam, and after what happened at the prison we can't be too quick to trust anyone."

"What happened at the prison?" Lana asked. "If you don't mind talking about it, of course."

"The short version? Some bastard started himself a town, Woodbury, called himself Governor. Real charmin' guy, but evil to the core. He caused all kinds of trouble, kidnapped Glenn and Maggie… and me. Tried to kill Michonne, but she took out his eye. He killed my brother and most of the people in Woodbury. We took in the survivors and he disappeared for a while. We thought he was gone."

Tilly watched him attentively as he recounted their experience with the Governor. "Turns out he'd been watching us for months. Found himself some new followers. He wanted what we had. Showed up at our gates with a tank, and Hershel and Michonne as hostages. Rick told him we weren't leaving, and he took Michonne's sword to Hershel's neck. All Hell broke loose after that. We got separated, but all found our way to Terminus. You know the rest."

"Shit, a tank?" Tilly was shocked. "God, I'm sorry. Did you kill him?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head, "I didn't. Michonne says she got him through the heart, though. Safe to say he's rotting in Hell right now, or at least wandering around looking for someone to eat."

He looked at Tilly and they locked eyes. "Good," she said.

Their gaze lingered a moment too long, and Tilly reached out and grabbed Daryl's arm as he tripped over the tracks. She didn't have the strength to hold him up, and they both landed on the ground, Tilly's face smashing against his chest.

"Ya'll alright?" Lana stifled a chuckle.

Tilly put her hands on the ground to push herself up, then held out a hand to help Daryl. "Yeah," she said as he took her hand and she pulled him to his feet, "I'm good. You?" She looked to Daryl.

"I'm alright, just need to pay a little more attention to where I'm stepping, 'stead of having story time." His face turned serious, and Tilly could tell she wasn't going to get anything else out of him. He didn't seem to handle embarrassment well.

The group walked in near-silence for a while longer before Rick stopped and turned to address them. "That's enough for today," he said. "We only have a couple hours of light left, so I think we should make camp here. There's a map just up ahead. I'll grab it and we can figure out which way to go in the morning. Daryl, you mind going out and hunting a bit?"

"Nah," he answered, "I got it."

"Good. Don't go far, and make sure you're back before dark. Take Tilly with you."

"What?" Tilly was a little surprised. "Why do you want me to go?"

"Cause if you're going to be part of this group you need to contribute."

"You got a gun?" Daryl asked.

"No. I used to, but it's still somewhere in Terminus, I'm sure. I have a knife."

Daryl nodded, "Good enough. You know how to use it?"

"Would I have survived this long if I didn't?" She was mildly offended by his skepticism of her abilities.

Tilly looked back to Lana, nervous to leave her alone with these strangers. "You alright to stay here?" she asked her friend.

"Yeah, " Lana replied. "I'll be fine."

"We'll take care of her," Tyreese assured.

Tilly thought for a moment, then looked at Daryl, "Ok, then. We hunt."

"Let's see what ya got, Red," he challenged, and they walked toward the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

"You seem to have a habit of fallin' down," Daryl teased as they entered the tree line. "How are you supposed to catch us any food if you can't even stay upright?"

He seemed to have gotten over his embarrassment earlier and had returned to being friendly. Well, as friendly as Daryl got.

"I do perfectly fine staying upright when I've eaten recently," she replied defiantly. "I'm surprised my legs still work at all. And, if I remember correctly, you contributed to that last fall."

Daryl scanned the area as they talked. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he did earlier, especially when he was on a mission to feed the group.

"Anyway," Tilly continued, "Rick sending me out here, is this just another ploy for you to make sure I'm not a psycho?"

"You ain't stupid, girl, I'll give you that."

"Why don't you just go ahead and tell me what you want to know," Tilly wasn't in the mood for bullshitting. If they needed information in order to trust her, she would give it to them. She didn't have anything to hide, not compared to anyone else anyway.

"What did you do before all of this?" he asked, before suddenly raising a hand, signaling her to be quiet as he spotted a rabbit. He raised his crossbow and shot an arrow through the creature's head. After he collected his kill and checked that there were no other animals in sight he looked at her, letting her know she could speak.

"I looked for jobs, mostly. Got a degree in electrical engineering a few years ago, but steady work was hard to find where I lived. I made most of my money doing odd-electrical work for businesses around town. I had lined up an interview for a real full-time job, but the outbreak happened before I could go. Ain't that just my luck?"

"That's closer to a real job than I ever got," he shared.

"What did you do, then?" Tilly asked.

"Ain't here to talk about me." He regretted revealing anything about himself at all. She hadn't earned his trust yet.

"Alright, what else do you need to know?"

"How do you know Lana? You know her before this?"

"I've known her for as long as I can remember," Tilly replied. "Our mothers were best friends, and it kind of just carried on with us. She's my sister, as far as I'm concerned."

"You have any other family?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," Tilly didn't want to elaborate on that. Over a year later she still couldn't talk about what had happened when this whole thing started.

Daryl got the hint and decided not to pry into that at the moment. "How old are you?" he asked instead.

"Don't you know you're never supposed to ask a lady her age?"

Daryl shot her a look.

Tilly chuckled, "I'm 27. I think. Who really knows when their birthday is anymore? Lana is a month older than me, almost exactly. Is that it?" she sighed, beginning to wish she could focus on hunting instead of playing twenty questions.

"You told Rick you've killed four people. Care to elaborate on that?"

Tilly rubbed her forehead. "I don't care to tell you, but it's a long story. Maybe we should take a break and find somewhere to rest for a minute."

Daryl nodded and they found a downed tree to serve as a bench. Daryl pulled a water bottle he had nabbed from Terminus out of his pack, took a swig, then offered it to her. She took it gratefully and downed a bit.

"I'm not exactly sure where to start," she said.

"Just start at the beginning. We'll just watch for animals while we sit here, so we've got time." He sat looking out at the woods.

Tilly took a deep breath and began. "A couple of months after everything went to shit, Lana, Joseph and I ran into another group of people. Men, maybe 6 or 7 of them. Back then we were too stupid to realize that when there is no one to keep them in check people can be even more dangerous than the geeks."

Daryl nodded knowingly, but kept his eyes on the forest.

"Everything was fine for a couple of days. We holed up in an old factory somewhere outside of Memphis. We were on our way south from western Kentucky, and those guys offered to help us make it down here if we stayed there for a bit first. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it turns out those men had no intention of traveling with us. They weren't even going to let us out of the factory."

Daryl turned to look at her for a moment as she continued.

"Lana and I were the only women in the group, but we were confident we could handle ourselves, especially having Joseph with us." Daryl saw Tilly's eyes sparkle a little with tears as she thought of her lost friend.

"The third night we were there, Joseph was keeping watch as we slept. They ambushed him. Knocked him out. All of the noise woke us up, but it was too late by then. They rushed us. I'm sure you can tell where this is going," Tilly looked at Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl replied, "I have an idea." He turned his eyes back to the woods, waiting for her to confirm what he was thinking.

"There was one man in particular, the leader, Ron," she spat his name out. "He had me pinned underneath him. I told him that they could have me. Do whatever they wanted, and I wouldn't resist as long as they let Lana go. She's a tough chick, but she has a bit of a history with abuse, and I wasn't about to let her go through it again."

Daryl couldn't help but respect the woman after hearing this. Anyone who was willing to do such a thing to save someone else was alright with him. He had a feeling they didn't take her up on the deal, though.

Tilly paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued. "He just laughed in my face. He had his men tie up Lana and Joseph, and they made Lana watch as they… As they _did_ things to me. I fought them, but that just seemed to make the whole thing more fun for them. They took turns beating me, raping me," her voice cracked a bit. "I stopped fighting after a while, because I knew that when they were done with me they would do the same to Lana."

"They didn't bother tying me up when they had each had a turn. They thought I was done-for, and they just left me in the floor like trash. They were wrong, though. I wasn't done, not nearly. They all turned their attention to Lana. Started taunting her, telling her that they hoped she liked what she saw because she was next."

By this point, Daryl had given up looking for prey and had his full attention on Tilly.

"How did you manage to kill them?" Daryl asked. "Weren't they armed?"

Tilly nodded, "They all had some sort of weapon, but lucky for me only Ron had a gun. I knew that if we were going to get out of there that gun was my only hope."

"I'm surprised you were able to think that clearly after-," Daryl stopped, not wanting to repeat the things that had happened to her.

Tilly shook her head. "I wasn't thinking clearly. That just seemed common sense to me. I was acting on rage. I was angry about what had happened to me, I was injured pretty badly, but I wasn't going to let them do it to her. It wasn't an option. When they'd all turned their attention to Lana, I was able to get behind Ron. My knife was still in my boot. They were too stupid to take it away from me. I stuck it through the back of his neck."

_Ballsy, _Daryl thought.

"When he fell, I grabbed his gun and told them to untie Lana. They did it, and she was able to untie Joseph, who was finally awake. One of those bastards had the nerve to tell me to 'lighten up, we were just having a little fun!' And that was the breaking point. I shot him in the forehead. Then another, and another. Joseph was awake long enough to have heard them talking about the things they were going to do to Lana, the things they'd done to me. He took care of the rest of them."

"Damn," Daryl wasn't exactly sure what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Tilly replied. "It happened. It's over. We all made it out. We don't get to dwell on things like that anymore. If you let something like that stay in your head, affect you, you're going to end up getting yourself killed."

Daryl could only nod in response. "Starting to get dark," he said as he stood. "We should head back, see if we can kill anything else along the way."

Tilly stood to follow him. "So, you going to tell Rick I'm some kind of crazy killer now?"

"Nah," Daryl said. _I'm going to tell him you're the toughest person I've ever met. _


	5. Chapter 5

When Tilly and Daryl made it back to the group, hauling the rabbit he shot and three squirrels they killed on the way back, the rest of them were gathered around a small fire in the center of the tracks discussing their plans for tomorrow.  
Carol got up and approached them. "I'll go get those ready," she offered, reaching for the animals.  
Daryl stepped backward. "Nah, I got it. C'mon, Tilly, I'll teach you how to skin 'em."  
Carol looked a little hurt, but just retreated back to the group while Tilly and Daryl sat away from the group to prep the meat.  
They worked for a few minutes, Daryl giving her careful instructions on where to cut them, before Rick walked over. "Daryl, can I have a word?" he asked.  
"Can you handle this for a minute?" Daryl asked Tilly.  
"Yeah," she answered, "I think I've got it."

Rick led Daryl out of earshot of Tilly and the group, crossing his arms as he stopped in front of the hunter. "So, what do you think?"  
"She'll be an asset," he said.  
"She tell you more about who she killed?"  
"Yeah," Daryl answered, but didn't elaborate.  
"Well?" Rick pried.  
"Bunch of guys attacked her and her friends, raped Tilly and beat her up real good. When they went to do the same to Lana, she attacked them. Killed four of them, and Lana's brother took down the last couple of them."  
"Shit, four of them at once?" Rick rubbed his chin, considering what Daryl had just told him. "Sounds like she could be dangerous."  
"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "Loyal as fuck. Those two have been friends their whole lives. Tilly offered herself to those men in exchange for letting Lana go. Didn't work out that way, but she stuck her neck out for her big time. I say we let her into the fold, help her get to know everyone, and I think she'd be willing to do the same for any of us."  
Rick put his hand on Daryl's shoulder and nodded. If there was anyone's judgment he trusted it was Daryl's. "Alright. Think you can handle getting her acclimated? If you got her to talk, chances are she is starting to trust you. See if you can build on that."  
"You got it." And with that Daryl turned to go help Tilly finish with the animals.

His eyes grew wide at what he saw in front of him. "Walkers!" he yelled. "Tilly! Behind you!"  
The three biters were only about ten feet behind her. She dropped the squirrel she was skinning and turned around, knife raised. Daryl sprinted toward her, snatching his crossbow from the ground where he left it. The rest of the group had also risen to their feet and a few of them ran in the direction of the walkers.  
Tilly approached the closest walker, annihilating his knee with her boot, then climbed on top of him and stuck her knife in his eye. She jerked it back out quickly, ready for the next one. As she grabbed it by the collar and shoved her knife into it's forehead she saw an arrow fly past her and into the face of the last walker.  
Lana came running over. "Tills, you alright?"  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she reassured her friend. "Wouldn't be a bad idea for a few of us to walk the tracks a bit though and make sure there aren't anymore before we get settled in."  
She looked to Rick for confirmation. "I think that's a good idea. You and Daryl, check that way," he said, pointing in the direction they came from. "Ty, Michonne, you two walk ahead." Tyreese and Michonne grabbed their weapons, a hammer and katana respectively, and started off.

"Why does Rick keep sending me off with you instead of handling it himself? Seems like he's the ultimate judge here," Tilly asked Daryl as they walked along the tracks.  
"He has a lot of other stuff to handle," he explained. "I don't mind taking some of the load."  
She elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh, so now I'm a load, huh?" He stepped back, putting his hand where she had jabbed him as she laughed.  
"Keep hitting me and I'll load you off into them woods and leave ya for walker bait."  
"I'm fairly confident you wouldn't be able to manage that without losing a limb," she challenged.  
_Am I flirting with him?_ Tilly thought. _Get it together, Tills._  
He just scoffed at her and continued walking, clearly not threatened.  
"So what's the verdict?" she asked. "Rick going to keep a babysitter on me at all times or are we past that?"  
"Ain't babysitting ya," he offered. "Just trying to figure out how you can fit in within the group, where your strengths lie. And your weaknesses."  
_Why am I telling her all of this?_ He wondered. _This girl is still a stranger._  
"Think you have me all figured out yet?" she asked, curious as to what these people really thought of her so far.  
Daryl shook his head and she could have sworn she saw a small smile pull at one corner of his mouth. "Not yet."

Suddenly, he felt her elbow in his side again. "Shit woman, thought I told you to-"  
"Shhh!" she interrupted. "Walkers." She pointed to the edge of the woods where two corpses were wandering their way. "I'll take the one on the right."  
The pair made quick work of the walkers.  
"Think we need to go any farther?" she questioned.  
Daryl turned around to gage how far they were from camp. "I think this is good," he said. "We'll just walk the tree line on the way back, make sure there aren't anymore hiding in there."  
"Sounds good," she agreed. "Ya know, I think we make a pretty good team. Daryl and Tilly: Walker Slayers," she stretched her hands in front of her, making an imaginary marquee. "Maybe they'll make a movie about us someday," she laughed. "Who do you think would play me?"  
"That's a hard question to answer when most of the actors we know are probably walkers themselves," he said dryly.  
"Alright, jerkface, go on and spoil my fun," she crossed her arms in mock-anger.  
"Jerkface?" he laughed. "Are you 12?" He reached over and nudged her arm, urging her to start walking. "C'mon, let's get back to camp and cook up those squirrels, this _jerkface_ is starving."


	6. Chapter 6

Tilly was more than a little surprised that Rick asked her to take first watch that night. Though the only person she had really spoken to at length was Daryl, it seemed they were beginning to trust her.

_If he has that much influence they must really respect him, _she thought as she sat on a large rock beside the tracks, shotgun in her lap.

"What's on your mind, lady?" Lana asked. She had volunteered to keep watch with her friend, mostly so they could finally have some time to talk about the events of the day.

Tilly picked the gun up off of her lap and leaned it against the side of the rock. "I'm just trying to make sense of everything right now. Terminus, these people… It's just a lot all at once."

"You're tellin' me," Lana nodded. "They seem like decent people, though. I had plenty of time to talk to them since Rick had you running off with Mr. Crossbow all day. You didn't seem to mind much, though." Lana grinned at Tilly.

"It's not like that, you loser," Tilly cast a sideways glance at her. "The last thing I'm concerned about right now is finding a new boyfriend."

"It may be dark, but I can still see you blushing," Lana teased. She was right, not that it took much to turn Tilly's pale face red. "He's cute though, right? You might be in warrior princess mode, but you still have eyes."

Tilly sighed, "Yes. Ok? Yes, he's cute."

"He didn't argue with taking you out in the woods eith-"

"You better drop it unless you want me to tell everyone that the real reason you're staying up with me is because you snore so loud you'd draw geeks for miles," Tilly threatened.

Lana laughed and raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, don't blow my cover."

"_Anyway,_" Tilly sighed, "why don't you give me the low-down on the rest of the group. I still don't think I've met everyone."

Lana turned toward where the group members slept and pointed to everyone as she filled Tilly in. "That's Glenn, he and Maggie are together, but I'm sure you noticed that. Your fellow ginger over there is Abraham, he's with Rosita and they're trying to get Eugene to Washington because apparently he's smarter than that haircut would lead you to believe."

The girls both chuckled quietly.

"Tyreese is over there, he and Sasha are brother and sister. There's Bob, he's a medic."

"Very useful nowadays," Tilly added.

"Very." Lana continued, "You've met Carol. Rick's son and daughter are over there, Carl and Judith. And your fellow she-warrior over there is Michonne. I think that's everyone."

Tilly pointed back toward a sleeping form Lana had skipped over, "Who's that girl with the short hair?"

"Oh, sorry, that's Tara."

Tilly couldn't help but notice that she was sleeping a little farther away from the others. "What's her story?"

"I'm not really sure," Lana answered, "but Glenn met her on the way to Terminus. She's a little bit of an outsider too, I guess."

"At least we're not the only new kids."

The next few hours continued uneventfully, Lana eventually resigning to her exhaustion and leaving to get some rest. "Sleep on your side so you don't wake the dead!" Tilly called after her as she left.

"Little late for that!" Lana replied, flipping her off as she walked toward an empty spot in the middle of the group.

After that, Tilly sat in silence with her thoughts, trying to make sense of her current situation. She had only been with Lana and Joseph since the incident in Memphis. They had come across a couple of other groups since, but had done their best to avoid contact, scared to trust anyone. They had gone toward Terminus out of desperation. They were out of food, running low on water, and they were starting to lose hope. When they saw the signs they thought they had found their safe haven.

_We were wrong, though, _Tilly thought as she remembered the events leading up to their rescue. _We were so, so wrong, and it cost us Joseph. _

Lana hadn't wanted to talk about Joseph when Tilly brought it up. She was either in denial or had just accepted that that was the hazard of living in this world. It was hard to tell. Whichever, she seemed to be taking Tilly's advice about putting on a brave face to heart and she was proud of her friend for staying strong.

"Mind if I keep you company?" Tilly jumped and automatically reached for her gun at the sound of the soft voice behind her.

"Oh, sorry," she said once she turned around, relaxing and placing the shotgun back beside the rock. "Of course, Carol." She scooted over to give Carol somewhere to sit, thankful for the chance to talk to the woman.

"It never gets easier to get a good night's sleep out here," Carol said, attempting to make small talk.

Tilly nodded, but she wasn't one to beat around the bush. She had questions, and Carol seemed like the one to answer them.

"Hey Carol, back in the woods everyone was talking about a virus. It didn't seem like they were talking about the outbreak. Was there something else?"

Carol nodded. "About a week before the Governor attacked there was an outbreak of some kind of flu in the prison. It wiped out nearly all of the people we had taken in from Woodbury. We almost lost Sasha and Glenn, too."

"And you tried to stop it?"

Carol's eyes grew wide, seemingly surprised Tilly was being so forward. "Yes," she answered. "The first two people to come down with it were Tyreese's girlfriend Karen and a man from Woodbury named David."

_That explains why Rick looked to Tyreese when making the decision to let her back in._

She took a deep breath and continued, "We quarantined them in the tombs but I knew it would still get out. They were both near death anyway, and someone needed to do something to protect the rest of us. I killed them both while they slept and burned the bodies."

Tilly studied the woman's face, taking in her story. She didn't look ashamed of what she had done. Her face was strong and resolved. She didn't regret her decision.

"Obviously it spread anyway, and when Rick found out it was me who killed them he sent me out on my own. I understand why, but I'd do it all over again if I thought it would help."

"You did the right thing," Tilly said, surprising the older woman. "You can't hesitate or wait for approval when it comes to protecting the people you love."

A small smile crossed Carol's lips. "You and I, Tilly, I think we're a lot alike."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Because you understand that what happens to your family is more important than what happens to you. These people are my family. I have a feeling they'll become yours soon enough."

Tilly smiled, and Carol placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before heading back to her makeshift bed.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Honey, I'm home!" Tilly called as she shut the door to her apartment and placed her keys on the hook. _

_"Oh, thank God!" Lana rushed her and wrapped her in a hug. "I've been trying to call you all morning!"_

_Tilly pushed her friend back to arm's length, "I'm fine, Lan. I was just installing some light fixtures for Mrs. Harding at the bakery."_

_"So you haven't seen the news?" Lana's eyes grew wide, and she drug Tilly toward the living room after she shook her head no._

_The television was blaring, and as Tilly stepped in front of it she suddenly understood her friend's panic. _

_"Unofficial death tolls are in the thousands at this time," the newscaster announced, her hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot, like she had been up all night. A bright red chyron flashed at the bottom of the screen. _'Breaking News: Infection has spread worldwide'

_"Holy shit," Tilly declared, "I thought they said they had that all contained just the other day."_

_"Apparently not," Lana replied. "The local news was reporting cases of it in Paducah this morning, but they've been off-air for a couple of hours now. You don't think…"_

_"That they got hit?" Tilly finished. "God, I hope not. That's less than an hour from here."_

_Lana reached over and flipped off the TV. "Did you see anything in town while you were out?"_

_"No," Tilly shook her head. "Everything seemed pretty normal. Fewer people out than usual, maybe, but that's it."_

_Tilly went to the kitchen, poured each of them a cup of coffee, then walked over to the living room window after giving Lana her cup. The streets were all but empty, which was a little unusual, but with what she saw on the news she figured people had just decided to be cautious and stay inside. _

_As she sipped the warm liquid, something caught her eye just east of their apartment. _

_"Looks like Tyler has been day drinking again," Tilly announced. She knew the teenager from the gas station where he worked. It wasn't uncommon for him to show up to work drunk or stoned, but he was a nice enough kid as far as she was concerned. _

_Lana walked over to join her at the window, laughing at the sight of the boy stumbling down the sidewalk. _

_"Didn't you make out with him once?" Tilly teased._

_"Fuck no!" Lana replied defensively. "He's like 19, Tills. You're thinking of his older brother."_

_Tilly laughed, "Ah, yeah. Wasn't he the one who sent you flowers?"_

_Lana shook her head at the memory, "That dude was nuts. I let him get to second base once and all of a sudden the dude is sending me flowers and blowing up my phone. What a psycho." _

_As the girls reminisced, they saw a woman walk out of a house a block from where Tyler was. She had a large purse draped over one arm, and was holding the hand of a little boy with her other. All of a sudden, Tyler's head whipped toward the two of them. His mouth fell open and he began to shamble quickly toward them. _

_"Something isn't right," Tilly said, panic in her voice. "Lana, I don't think he's drunk."_

_"The infection," Lana whispered. _

_They heard a piercing scream come from the woman as she noticed Tyler approaching. The girls looked out of the window and saw their first glimpse of what would soon be their new reality. Tyler's teeth were sunk deep into the arm of the woman as she tried to fight him off. He pulled his mouth away, taking a chunk of her flesh with it and chewing it like it was a gourmet steak. _

_Tilly sprinted toward her bedroom and came back holding a baseball bat in her right hand. _

_"What are you doing?" Lana yelled._

_Tilly ran toward the door, pausing to answer her friend. "I'm helping."_

_She slammed the door behind her, leaving a stunned Lana in their apartment. _

_When Tilly made it over to the woman she was weakly pounding Tyler with her purse, but he maintained a death grip on her arm. Her little boy clung desperately to her other arm, eyes wide with shock. When he saw Tilly running toward them with the bat, he let out a scream. _

_At the sound of the shriek, Tyler dropped the arm of the boy's now-limp mother and moved to grab him. _

_"No!" Tilly yelled. "Tyler, stop!" She ran as fast as she could toward the boy, but no matter how fast she went they seemed to only get farther away. Tears ran down her face, and she watched helplessly as Tyler sunk his teeth into the neck of the terrified child. _

_All she could do was scream at the sight in front of her. Her feet still pounded the pavement but got her nowhere._

_"Tilly!" She heard, and felt something grab her arm. She jerked it away quickly and began swinging her bat with all of her might. "Matilda! Stop it!"_

"Matilda! Stop it!" Daryl yelled, hands wrapped around Tilly's biceps. He shook her harder. "Tilly, it's a dream! You have to be quiet!"

The next thing he knew, Tilly's foot connected with his stomach and he let go of her arms as he fell backward. Tilly sat up with a start, breathing heavily.

"Oh, shit. Oh, my God." There was sweat dripping down her forehead as she finally became aware of her surroundings. She wasn't in the street outside her former apartment, but lying in the middle of the railroad tracks. She noticed Daryl sitting on the ground in front of her, rubbing his stomach and she realized what had happened.

"Fuck, Daryl, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I thought you were-"

"I know," he groaned as he got to his feet. "Trust me, we all get those nightmares. It's all good, you don't kick _that _hard."

He offered his hand to her, and pulled her to her feet when she took it.

Dusting herself off and stretching a bit, she turned and saw that pretty much everyone else was staring at her.

"Which one?" Lana asked, walking up and putting her arm around her friend's waist in comfort.

Tilly put her arm over Lana and pulled her into her side, Lana's head only reaching to her shoulder. "The boy," she answered. "I tried to stop it…"

"You couldn't have stopped it," Lana told her. "You never would have made it there in time." Lana knew this dream well, and had a similar one herself occasionally. They weren't able to save the boy in real life, and it seemed they'd never be able to in their dreams either.

Glenn walked over to her and patted her gently on the back. "You think we'd at least be able to escape this nightmare when we slept. We don't get a break, even then."

Though his words weren't exactly comforting, it helped to know that these new people didn't think worse of her for her outburst. They understood. She smiled at him in appreciation and stuck her knife in her boot before heading toward the rest of the gang to discuss their plan for the day.

"We head east," Rick announced, crouched over the map he had spread on the ground. The group was circled around him, watching as he traced the route they would take with a dirty finger.

Tilly studied Rick as he spoke. The man acted so sure of himself, but there was a tinge of hesitation behind his blue eyes. She could tell that he was doing everything he could to fight that doubt and be an effective leader, but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the past to shake his confidence.

No doubt leading them into Terminus was something he regretted, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that. She wondered if it had anything to do with his children's mother, who obviously wasn't around anymore.

"It's a little farther than we'd hoped," Rick continued. "Probably about 30 miles, but we can make it."

"We'll just hunt along the way," Daryl added. "We can stop at the first town we find and try and gather some supplies."

"We could all use some clothes, water bottles, weapons," Sasha stepped forward. "Most of our stuff is still back at Terminus."

Rick nodded. "We should get moving. I'd like to at least get a third of the way there by tonight. Daryl, I want you and Tilly to stay at the back. Keep a look out. Michonne, you're up front with me."

With that, everyone took their places and they were on their way. They followed the tracks only until they reached a cross-road. They had no way of knowing if they were being followed by any survivors of Terminus, so they needed to get off of the tracks as quickly as possible.

Tilly walked slowly at the back of the group with Daryl as they trudged down the leaf-covered road, only stopping for a moment to gather blackberries after Maggie spotted a bush.

Rick told her to keep the rifle she had used for watch the night before, and she had it slung over her shoulder as she cradled a handful of berries, occasionally popping one in her mouth, savoring every bit of their sharp sweetness.

"You sure are taking your time with those things," Daryl's muffled voice announced, his mouth stuffed with blackberries.

"No one ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" She replied.

"Nope," he answered, giving her a grin. She couldn't help but laugh at his purple-tinged mouth. "What?" he asked. "Got something stuck in my teeth?" He leaned his face down next to hers, baring his berry-stained teeth.

"God, Daryl, stop it." She shoved him away as he chuckled.

She felt him tug on the shoulder of her shirt. "Mind if I use this?" He started moving it toward his mouth, about to use it as a makeshift toothbrush. She jerked it out of his hand and took a step father away.

"I swear, Dixon, if you don't stop you won't ever have to worry about finding another toothbrush."

He smirked at her as he licked the last of the berry juice from his fingers.

"And don't get any ideas about wiping those on me either," she added.

"Everything alright back there?" Carol called from the middle of the group.

"Yes, Mom!" Daryl yelled back. Carol just smiled at Tilly and turned back around.

Tilly stepped a little closer and began to talk to him , more quietly this time. "What's the deal with you and her?" she asked. "Seems like everyone else in the group has accepted her back in. You two not get along?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, that's not it. She and I were really close."

"Bad break up?" Tilly prodded.

"Ain't like that," Daryl scowled. "She was the first one of them to start treating me like I was worth something and not just a carbon copy of Merle."

"Your brother?" she asked, and Daryl nodded in confirmation. "So what's the problem? You not agree with what she did?"

"Can't go around making decisions like that on your own," he said. "She was reckless. Stupid. Got herself kicked out."

Suddenly, Tilly understood. "You feel like she abandoned you."

Daryl visibly tensed at her statement, and began walking a little faster.

"Stop, Daryl!" Tilly picked up her pace a bit, and reached out to grab his arm. He stopped and spun to face her. "I get it. You cared about her, and she wound up leaving you. Doesn't matter if she wanted to go, but it was still her fault."

She could see him chewing on the inside of his mouth as he turned from her and began walking again.

"Thought you were an electrician," he said. "You got some secret psych degree, too?"

"No," Tilly bowed her head and took a deep breath. "I just know a little about abandonment."

Daryl's face softened, and she knew he was waiting for her to elaborate. She had avoided telling him about her family before, but for some reason she was starting to feel not just the desire, but the need, to open up to him.

"This about your family?" he asked, before she even began her story.

She nodded. "My dad left us when I was four," she began. "My mother couldn't handle it. She was weak."

Daryl looked over at her, expecting to see her tearing up, but all he saw in her eyes was anger. "She stuck a gun in her mouth a few weeks later. Blew her brains out while I was playing at Lana's house. Lana's mother found her when she went to take me home. I remember her making me wait outside while she gathered some of my things and called the police. I didn't have any other family, so they took me in."

Daryl wasn't sure what to say. She didn't seem like the kind of person who needed to be comforted, so "I'm sorry" didn't feel right.

"That sucks," he offered.

_Damn it, dude, _he thought. _You can do better than that. _

"I mean, I get it. Our house burned down with my mom inside when I was young. My dad was never around, and when he was we wished he wasn't."

Tilly was surprised to hear him open up to her. Maybe he was relieved to find someone whose childhood was just as dysfunctional as his.

"Makes ya tough, though," Tilly said proudly. "I mean, look at us. If we hadn't been forced to learn to take care of ourselves we probably wouldn't have survived in this world very long."

"Never thought of it like that," he said.

"Of course you haven't," she smiled. "That's why you have me."


	8. Chapter 8

Early that afternoon, they finally came across a small town. There wasn't much to it: a boutique, a couple of gas stations, a café, a pharmacy and a few offices.

"Alright," Rick began, "Michonne, you, Tilly and Lana will check the clothing store. Get anything you think might fit someone here. When you're done, check the café."

He scanned the group, figuring out how to break the rest of the people up. "Tyreese and Sasha, you take the farthest gas station. Carol and Daryl, you take the other."

Tilly could see Daryl tensing his jaw. He was nervous about being forced to talk to Carol, and she had a feeling there was a reason Rick had paired them up.

"Maggie, Glenn, Bob, you three check the pharmacy. We need bandages, pain killers, antibiotics, anything useful that's left. We will also need bags to carry all of this, so everyone keep an eye open."

"Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, you guys keep watch on the perimeter. Yell if you see anything. And Tara, I want you to watch Judith. Stay close to Abraham. Everyone clear on what they're to do?"

Everyone nodded at Rick, then broke off to search their areas.

"You need to talk to me," Carol begged.

Daryl just shook his head. "Let's just clear the gas station. Ain't got time for chit-chat."

Carol reached out and grabbed his arm. "Look, I'm tired of all of our contact consisting of you glaring at me."

"You left, Carol!" he blurted out, realizing she wasn't going to drop this.

"I didn't choose to-"

"I know Rick made you leave, but you knew that if he ever found out about what you did that it was a possibility. Hell, you're lucky he didn't do worse." He paced back and forth in front of Carol, gathering his thoughts as she stood in silence. "You 'bout got Rick and me killed. When Ty found the bodies he hulked out, punched me and beat the piss out of Rick! That's on you!"

"I know, Daryl. Don't you think I know that?" She replied sternly. "I did it to protect the group. I know it didn't stop the virus, but I wasn't going to sit back and watch it kill everyone I cared about without doing something."

Daryl stopped pacing and stared at her, taking in what she was saying. "I never wanted to leave you guys," she continued. "But making sure the group stayed safe was more important to me than the consequences."

"I didn't even know you were gone," Daryl said sadly. "After the attack, I just thought you had been run off, maybe killed. I didn't know." Tears clouded his eyes as he thought back to the days after the prison, days he spent alone not knowing if anyone he cared about was still alive.

Carol stepped closer to him. "I'm here now. I'm so sorry, but I'm here."

Daryl closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a hug, his unspoken way of telling her he forgave her.

"Come on," Carol said as she stepped away from him, "let's go see what we can find in here."

Daryl led the way into the gas station, crossbow raised. After checking the front area he motioned for Carol to follow him. He grabbed a few plastic sacks from behind the counter while Carol checked the employee lounge in the back.

"All clear," she declared as she came back out to meet him. He handed her a couple of bags and they began gathering the few useful things that were left: A few bags of jerky, half-a-dozen water bottles, some candy bars and two cartons of cigarettes that Daryl took for himself.

"You seem to get along well with Tilly," Carol remarked as she scanned another aisle, grabbing some feminine products for the women. "I like her pretty well myself."

"Yeah, she's alright," Daryl nodded. "She ain't a wuss, that's for sure."

Carol wanted to delve a little more into how he really felt about her, but she knew she needed to choose her words carefully. "You know, I heard her and her friend talking about you the other night while they were on watch."

This got Daryl's attention and he momentarily stopped searching the shelves to look at her. "Yeah?" he asked, curious as to what she really thought of him, though he wasn't sure why he cared.

Carol grinned and cut her eyes toward Daryl, curious to see his reaction to what she was about to say. "I believe the word they used was 'cute.'"

"Ha!" he scoffed. "Ain't nobody ever called me 'cute,' especially a girl like that."

"A girl like that?" Carol questioned. "You mean a pretty one?"

"Something like that," he mumbled. He was having a hard time getting his thoughts straight, but he wasn't about to admit to Carol that he had looked at her that way.

Carol laughed and walked over to him. "Are you serious right now? Just think about it. The way she talks to you, the way you two seem completely at ease around one another, the way you flirt-"

"I don't flirt," he said sharply.

"Oh, but you do." Carol couldn't hide the fact that she was enjoying his reaction to this news. He turned away from her and went back to stuffing supplies in the bag. "Alright," Carol sighed, "but I just thought you should know."

"Yeah, thanks," he grumbled.

"But Daryl," Carol sounded more serious this time, and he turned to look at her, "Tilly isn't one to bullshit. She wouldn't say anything she didn't mean, and she sure wouldn't treat you the way she does if she didn't like you. If you don't think of her like that, fine. But if you do, be honest. With yourself, and with her."

Daryl just nodded and finished tying the bag he had filled. Carol was perceptive. _Too perceptive,_ he thought. _Even if I did feel that way about Tilly, ain't no way I'd ever have a shot. She's too focused, too strong, too beautifu- _He had to stop himself from thinking like that. _Like Tilly said the other day, you let yourself get distracted and you'll get yourself killed._

As they were gathering up all of their bags, they heard a scream outside.

"You drop her right now!" they heard Abraham yell as they sprinted for the exit, dropping their bags on the ground.

"Oh my god," Carol gasped when they finally could see what was happening.

Daryl's heart stopped when he took in the scene in front of him. There was a large blonde man, even bigger than Abraham, standing with his back to them. A spray of red hair peeked over his shoulder.

"Tilly!" he yelled, sprinting toward the man.

"Nuh-uh," the man clicked his tongue as he turned toward Daryl and he could see the man held a gun to her head. He could also now see that the man wasn't alone. A group nearly as large as theirs stood just outside of the café, all men.

"You better hold it right there, or sweet thang here is gonna get a nice big hole in the head," the man threatened. "All of you," he ordered, "drop your weapons. We don't want any trouble."

"Well, what do ya want?" Daryl yelled as he set his crossbow on the ground and studied the man, looking for any weaknesses.

"Just Red here," he answered. "Got a lot of lonely, lonely men in my group, and a woman would do wonders for their morale." He had a sickening smile plastered on his face.

The rest of the man's group stood behind him, practically drooling as they studied Tilly.

Daryl studied Tilly's face expecting to see terror, but instead it looked determined. He knew she was fully capable of taking care of herself, she'd proven that, but he knew that she couldn't handle _this_ on her own. He hoped she wouldn't do anything stupid in an attempt to escape and wind up getting herself killed.

"You aren't taking her," Rick told the man. "That's not an option. Now, we have supplies, weapons, maybe we can work something else out."

Daryl knew that Rick had no intention of giving them any of their supplies. He was stalling while he came up with a plan.

The man just laughed. "I don't think you understand, cowboy. We got supplies. What we don't got is a nice little pussy to keep us warm at night." He stroked Tilly's hair with the hand that held his gun and she jerked in his arms. "Shhh, sweetheart, don't worry. We'll take _real_ good care of you."

Daryl's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, willing himself to wait for Rick's cue before he acted.

"Don't talk about her like that," Daryl ordered through gritted teeth.

"Oh boy, this one yours?" the man asked Daryl, raising his eyebrows. "Is that why you don't wanna give her up?" He laughed as Daryl's face grew red. "How'd you ever manage to get a piece of this sweet ass, anyway? She got a thing for ugly rednecks?"

Daryl swore he could hear his own heart it was pounding so loud.

The man seemed to get some kind of sick pleasure out of making him squirm. "Can't blame ya, man, you got good taste. I love redheads. That creamy skin, those soft, pink nipp-GOD DAMMIT!"

The man yelled as Tilly bit the hand that was over her mouth. He jerked his hand away momentarily and she spat a chunk of his flesh on the ground. She tried to run, but he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her back to him. "That's the other thing I love about redheads," he smiled, ignoring the blood pouring from his hand, "they got some fight in them." He slammed the handle of his gun into the side of Tilly's head and she went limp.

"You motherfucker, I'm gonna kill you!" Daryl yelled as he ran toward the man, unable to contain himself any longer.

The man pointed his gun at Daryl, but Rick acted quickly, pulling his trusty Python from its holster and shooting him through the arm, making him drop the gun. The rest of the group took that as their cue to act.

They took cover as well as they could behind the cars and took out the rest of the men.

The man who had Tilly reached for his gun, but Daryl got to it first and stuck it to his temple.

"I'm 'bout to teach you a real important lesson about how not to treat a lady," Daryl growled, then he pulled the trigger, splattering the man's brains across the sidewalk.

He dropped the gun and quickly crawled over to where Tilly lay on the ground, surrounded by a puddle of both her and the man's blood.

"Bob!" Carol yelled as she ran toward the unconscious woman. Blood ran down from Tilly's hairline, and Bob sprinted over to check her wound,

"She's gonna have a pretty nasty concussion," he explained. "And this gash is deep. I'll need to stitch it. I think we found everything I'll need in the pharmacy. Let's get her in there and I'll take care of it."

Tyreese stepped forward and reached for Tilly. "I'll take her in there."

"Nah," Daryl stepped in front of them, "I've got it." He wrapped one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees and stood to cradle her to his chest as he packed her to the pharmacy.

His heart sank seeing this normally strong, fearless woman bloody and unconscious.

She was hurt badly, but he knew she'd be alright. She always was. He was going to make sure of that.


	9. Chapter 9

When Tilly woke up it was dark and her mouth tasted like copper.

_That man_, she remembered, _I bit off part of his hand_.

"Good thing I've had all my shots," she said out loud, chuckling to herself.

"Tilly?" she heard Lana's soft voice beside her and struggled to open her eyes. "You're awake!"

Tilly smiled when she heard her familiar voice and felt her friend's hand holding hers.

"Lan, I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, squeezing her hand. She heard her friend laugh and strained to open her eyes. They were in the back of a van, presumably headed toward the farm.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

Lana pointed to Tilly's hand, grinning from ear to ear. Pain shot through her head as she turned, but she gritted her teeth and held in the yelp that was threatening to escape.

When she finally got her eyes to focus in the dark she saw Daryl's sleeping form lying next to her. It wasn't Lana's hand she held, but his.

"He wouldn't leave," Lana explained.

"I'm not sure if it's the shot to the head or what, but I'm confused." Tilly wasn't sure what to make of the situation, not that she was complaining. She and Daryl had definitely become friends, but it didn't seem like him to show this kind of concern and affection. He was the sort of guy who just played apathetic most of the time.

"He killed that guy, the one who hit you. Almost got shot doing it," Lana told her, but Tilly couldn't take her eyes off of his face.

She hadn't had the chance to really study it before. He tended to quickly break any eye contact they made. It was too intimate for him. As he slept, his face was softer, his normally tense jaw relaxed.

Without thinking, she reached over with her other hand and brushed a strand of brown hair off of his face. He stirred at her touch and his eyes fluttered open, locking with hers.

"Matilda?" he said softly. A smile momentarily swept across his lips before he looked down and realized his fingers were interlocked with hers. He started to pull his hand away, but Tilly held on tighter.

"Don't," she said. "Stay."

He paused for a moment, considering what she said.

_Maybe Carol ain't full of shit afterall_, he thought. _And she was definitely right about the fact that Tilly wasn't shy about what she wants._

He relaxed his hand and sat up a bit, propping himself up with his other elbow.

"You remember what happened?" he asked.

Tilly began to sit up, but winced when sharp pain echoed through her head.

"Hey, hey," Daryl took his hand from hers and laid it on her stomach, gently encouraging her to lay back down. They didn't have any actual pillows, so Lana had rolled up a tarp for her to use as one. It crinkled a bit every time she moved, but served its purpose well enough.

When the pain subsided a bit, Tilly answered him. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I remember it all. He said... Something," she was struggling to get her thoughts straight. It did seem parts of her memory were missing. "He said something, I bit him and then it's just black."

She was frustrated with the fact that details were missing, and looked pleadingly at Lana, hoping she'd fill in the gaps.

Lana got the hint. "After we checked out the clothing store, you offered to go clear the cafe. It was small, so we figured you'd be ok doing it on your own. God, I'm so stupid," Tears filled Lana's eyes. "I should never have let you go by yourself. I'm the worst friend ever."

"Shhh," Tilly comforted her, "don't you dare insult my best friend like that." She smiled at Lana. "Besides, when's the last time I waited for anyone's permission to do something?"

Lana laughed a little at that and wiped her eyes with her sleeve before continuing. "We heard you yelling so we ran outside. You ran out of the cafe, but that man caught up to you. Their group must have been hiding out in there. He was huge, Till."

"I remember that much," Tilly said.

"Michonne ran to help, but stopped when he pulled his gun on you. I thought I was going to lose you, Tills. I've never been so afraid."

This time it was Lana who grabbed her hand, and Tilly rubbed her thumb over her friends knuckles, trying to offer her some comfort.

"By then, the rest of our group, and his, were out on the street. He started telling us about what they were going to _use _you for. I wanted to puke, Tilly, my mind went right back to Memphis and watching you-"

"It's fine," Tilly cut her off. "They didn't do anything to me."

"Didn't do anything to you?" Daryl injected, suddenly angry. "The fuck you mean they didn't do anything to you?"

_What the hell is wrong with this chick? _he thought. _Does she not understand what just happened?_

"I'm fine, Daryl, really." She couldn't understand why he was so upset.

"You ain't _fine_, Tilly. You got knocked out by a fucking mountain! Stitches in your head. Hell of a concussion. I'm surprised you woke up at all!"

"Daryl, I-"

"No," he was fuming, "what you did back there was stupid. You tried to take on a man three times your size who had a fucking gun pointed at your head. What if he had shot you? You almost _died,_ Tilly. Do you get that? You're not invincible."

Tilly stated at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond.

"I ain't saying you can't take care of yourself, but you have to remember that you're with us now. You've got people around to save you when you can't do it yourself. I'll-" he cleared his throat, "we'll take care of you."

"I... I..." Tilly stammered, "I don't know what to say."

"Don't gotta say anything," he said, calming down a bit. "Just lay down and let someone else take care of you for once. You with me, Lana?"

Lana's mouth hung wide open, but she managed a nod.

"Alright," he continued, "we'll take turns waking you up every little bit. Can't have you sleeping too long with your head all fucked up."

"And what exactly are you trying to say about my head?" Tilly teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Daryl sighed, "There's a big fucking hole in it, Matilda. Now stop being a smartass for thirty seconds and get some rest."

Lana swallowed, regaining her composure and laid her hand on Tilly's arm. "Though I wouldn't have said it quite like _that_," she cast a sideways glance at Daryl, "he's right. We don't have to do this on our own now. You've done such a good job of looking out for everyone else, it's time you let other people look out for you."

They heard a single horn blow from in front of them, and the van slowed to a stop. "Caravan's stopped," Bob called from the driver's seat.

"I'll go see what's going on," Daryl responded, and opened the back of the van to go talk to Rick.

When he returned a minute later, he explained that they were going to make camp here. It was too dark to go any farther tonight.

"Tilly, you'll bunk here, sleep in the van. I'll stay and make sure you wake up occasionally."

"I'll keep close in case you guys need something," Bob said. "There are some extra bandages up here. You should change hers out soon." Daryl gave him a nod and he left to join the rest of the camp.

Lana looked at Tilly, her face giving away that she wasn't going to leave the side of her friend easily.

"You should get some sleep, Lana," Tilly encouraged.

Lana hesitated, considering the temptation of sleep against taking care of her best friend. "You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tilly smiled. "You don't have to worry about me."

Lana nodded and turned to Daryl. "Mind if I talk to you outside for a second?"

A look of confusion crossed his face, but he nodded and got up to follow her outside. "I'll be right back," he said to Tilly.

Lana leaned down and gave Tilly a kiss on the cheek before exiting. "Love you," she said.

"Love you back," Tilly grinned. "Now go get some rest."

"What is it?" Daryl asked Lana once they were standing outside of the van.

Lana's face tensed and she crossed her arms in front of her, looking up at the hunter with her most serious face.

Daryl had to fight to keep from laughing at the sight. _This little five-foot-nothin' chick is trying to intimidate me. _

"Look," Lana began, "you need to be straight with me."

"Ok…" he replied, confused as to where this was going.

"What are your intentions with Matilda?" she pried.

This time Daryl couldn't contain his laughter. "You her daddy now?"

"I'm serious, Dixon," she continued. "She's all the family I have left. She's stubborn as a damn mule, I know, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to look out for her. You seem decent enough, and I appreciate what you did for her back in the town, but just know that I'll be keeping my eye on you."

"Ain't gonna do nothin' to your friend," he replied, finally composing himself. "Just trying to look out for her, same as you."

Lana nodded, dropping her arms to her sides. "Alright. Here ends the required best-friend-boyfriend-threatening."

"Ain't nobody's boyfriend," she shot back at her.

"_Ok_, Daryl," she smiled. "Goodnight." She left to join the rest of the group as he went back into the van.

"Why'd you have to go and sick your munchkin on me?" Daryl asked he shut the van doors behind him. Tilly lay right where he had left her, her eyes closed.

"Hey Till," he nudged her arm. "Need to change your bandages real quick, then you can sleep for a bit."

"Huh?" she blinked. "Alright." She pushed herself up with her hands, a little too quickly, and her elbows buckled at the pain that shot through her.

Daryl shot his arm behind her back, catching her before she fell back down and hit her head again. "Goddammit, woman, be careful." He used his arm to help ease her to a sitting position. "You've gotta take it slow for a while."

"That's not really an option out here," she replied, rubbing her forehead with her palm once she was upright.

Daryl shook his head. _Like Lana said, stubborn as a mule. _"It's the only option for you right now. You won't do anyone much good if you jump back into things right now. You'll just end up actually getting yourself killed."

"Why do you care so much?" Tilly asked, locking eyes with him.

Daryl paused before breaking their eye contact and starting to get the new bandages ready. "When you ain't off getting yourself kidnapped you're pretty useful."

Tilly just smiled. She knew that was all she was going to get out of him. "How'd things go with Carol earlier?" she changed the subject, remembering the two of them scouted together earlier.

"Fine," he said, taking a small pair of scissors and cutting through the old bandage on her head.

She hissed at the pain as he slowly pulled it off of her wound.

"Damn," Daryl exclaimed, examining the gash. He gently reached up and pushed some of her hair away from it so he could get a better look. She winced as his fingers grazed the tender area. "Sorry," he said softly. "This looks pretty gnarly. The whole side of your head is bruised."

"Yeah," she replied, "I can tell."

She watched his face as he continued checking and cleaning the wound with a bit of peroxide. His blue eyes were focused and he bit his lip as he worked, his face close to hers in order to see better in the dark.

_This is a nice distraction from the pain, _she thought.

"Hey Daryl?" she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He pulled back a bit so he was looking her in the eye. "For what?" he asked.

"Lana said you killed that man, that you almost got shot doing it. I've only known you a couple of days, but you risked your life for me." He looked away, almost as if he was embarrassed. "Hey," she reached out and put her hand under his chin, making him look back at her, "why can't you just accept my gratitude?"

He shrugged.

"What you said earlier? You were right," she continued, staring into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to turn away again, but he fought the urge. "No more letting my pride get in the way of making smart decisions."

"Bout time you figured that out," he smiled.

"I want you to know that I trust you," she said. Her hand had dropped from his chin, but he stayed in the same position she had left him. "Everyone here has been kind to me, but you've gone out of your way to include me, to make me feel part of this family."

"Rick asked me to," he responded, finally looking away. He grabbed a new piece of gauze and began re-wrapping her head.

"I know," she responded, feeling his warm breath on her cheek as he worked. "But I don't think that's the only reason."

"Huh?" He finished securing the bandage in place and started to pull away from her, but she brought her hand up behind his head and held his face near hers.

Something sparkled in her eyes, and it made Daryl nervous. _What's she doing? _he wondered.

"Not to be forward, but I'd very much like to kiss you, Daryl Dixon," she whispered, a smile crossing her lips.

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. _Daryl wasn't sure how to handle this. _Do I want to kiss her? _He asked himself. He thought back to what Carol had told him earlier about Tilly and how he needed to skip the bullshit and be honest about how he felt.

"I'd like to kiss you, too, Matilda…" he paused, "Uh, I don't think I know your last name."

"It's Snow," she grinned.

"Matilda Snow," he repeated, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers.

_Yes,_ he thought, _I definitely want to do this. _


	10. Chapter 10

The kiss was quick and innocent. Tilly didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was by attempting to deepen it. Daryl just didn't want to push her too hard while she was already hurting.  
They pulled apart after a moment and just stared at each other, neither of them really sure what to say. Tilly was normally pretty confident in these situations. Hell, she'd initiated the kiss, but she found herself a little disoriented.  
"You alright? Daryl asked. "I didn't hurt your head, did I?"  
"No, no, it's not that."  
"Was it that bad?" He bowed his head a little, averting his eyes. _She regrets it,_ he thought.  
"Oh, my God, no!" She couldn't believe he would ever think that. It had been incredible. "Stop that talk right now, Daryl Dixon. My head's just a little swimmy. Probably just the concussion," she rationalized, knowing well that it wasn't the case. "I'd like to do that again sometime," she smiled.  
"The concussion?"  
"The kiss, you smartass," she laughed and he joined her, the awkwardness finally gone.  
He scooted away from her a bit and put his hand on her arm, "Another time, Till. Let me go get you some food. When's the last time you ate?"  
She thought for a moment. "Those squirrels we killed, back on the tracks."  
"Well," he said, making his way toward the doors, "no wonder you're dizzy. I'll be right back."  
"No, Daryl," she called out, "it's fine. I'm really not hungry, I swear. I'm just tired."  
He shook his head, "No more arguing. Lay down and I'll be back."  
Tilly huffed a little, but laid down, resting her aching head on the tarp and quickly drifting off.  
She was awoken what felt like a second later by the click of the van door.  
"Mmm," she moaned, keeping her eyes closed, "please just let me sleep a little longer, Daryl. I'll eat later."  
"I'm sorry, I just need to talk to you for a minute, Tilly." It wasn't Daryl's voice she heard, but Rick's.  
She opened her eyes and sat up, slowly this time. "Hey bossman, what's up?"  
He took a seat beside her on the floor of the van. "First, how are you feeling? You took a hard hit back there."  
"I'm alive," she answered. "That's all you can really hope for anymore."  
Rick nodded, then got straight to business. "We almost lost you back there," he began.  
"I know." She raised her hand, begging him to spare her another lecture. "Daryl already got up my ass about it. Won't happen again, I promise."  
"I'm not here to scold you," he said. "I just haven't had a chance to get to know you."  
She nodded and laid back on her elbows as she listened. "What do you want to know?"  
"Now, I hope it doesn't upset you, but Daryl told me about what happened to you with the group of men you, Lana and her brother met in that factory."  
"It's alright," she said, "I knew he was just getting information to pass along to you anyway. I don't mind anyone knowing."  
Rick nodded, pleased she wasn't angry. "What you did then was brave, and I'm sorry someone tried to do it to you again."  
"That's just one of the hazards of being a woman in this world," she sighed, and she could see the sympathy in his eyes. He had probably done some unspeakable things to protect his people, but he was still the kind of man who didn't understand taking advantage of women.  
Rick lowered his head and spun the wedding ring on his finger. "That's the truth," he continued. "I just want you to promise me you won't go off alone again, even if you think you're safe. We've had too many accidents, lost too many people, in _safe_ situations, and I'd prefer not to lose any more."  
"Alright," Tilly agreed.  
"I'm glad you're with us, Tilly. Even though you messed up back there, I genuinely believe our group is stronger with you in it. I admire your bravery."  
"Thank you," she smiled, "I'm glad we're here, too. We've survived on our own for a long time and we could handle it, but I'd prefer not to be back out there by ourselves, especially without Joseph now."  
"I don't think I've said it, but I'm sorry for your loss," Rick looked her in the eye now. "I'm lucky to still have my children, but I lost my wife in childbirth while we were at the prison. You know there's always a risk of losing people you care about, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. How is Lana doing with it?"  
Tilly shook her head a little. "It's hard to tell. She won't talk about it. I think she's just trying to forget."  
"I tried that for a while," he shared. "I tried to preoccupy myself enough that I would forget Lori was gone, but it wasn't until I finally accepted it that I was able to deal. Well, I'm trying to deal," he admitted. "I still struggle with it."  
"Is that why you doubt yourself?" Tilly asked, and she could tell he was surprised at the question.  
"I don't-"  
"I can see it in your eyes," she interrupted. "Whatever happened to Lori, it was the fault of this world, not you. I haven't known you long, but I can tell you're a good leader. You care about all of these people. You're going to mess up sometimes, and you won't be able to save everybody, but you're doing a good job. Look at how many people you have left. They're alive. You had a big part in that."  
Rick leaned in and gently wrapped Tilly in a hug. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."  
"We should make it to the farm before dark tomorrow," he said, pulling away. "We'll have a more comfortable place for you to recover there."  
"Speaking of not being in this van anymore, you think I could get up and move around a little? I'm dying for some fresh air."  
"Sure you're up to it?" Rick questioned.  
She nodded, and he offered her his hand and helped her to the back of the van, opening the door for her. She scooted to the edge of the bumper and set her feet down on the ground, her face turned upward to look at the sky.  
"Take it easy now." He wrapped his hands around her elbow and helped her to her feet.  
She stood in place for a moment, sizing up how she felt. Her head still pounded, but her legs felt fine.  
She looked over at Rick and smiled, "I'm good. I'm just gonna walk around a little bit. I'll stay close to the van."  
"Alright," he nodded. "Take it slow. I'll go get Daryl and let him know you're out here."  
Rick walked toward the camp to get Daryl, who was keeping watch while he spoke to her.  
Tilly took a few tentative steps with her hand still on the side of the van. Once she felt stable enough and had stretched out her legs a bit, she decided to head over to where she saw Rick and Daryl talking quietly.  
Daryl turned toward the sound of her steps and frowned. "Thought you were supposed to be resting."  
She smiled at him, and kept walking toward the men. "I was, but I just couldn't stand to be in that van-" she stopped abruptly as a wave of nausea overcame her. She bent over with her hands on her knees and vomited up the small amount of liquid in her stomach.  
She looked up when she was finished, spitting the last bit of bile from her mouth, and saw that Daryl had begun walking toward her.  
She held up her hand and started walking in the direction of the two men. "I'm fine, guys, I guess I just-"  
Daryl watched as the color drained from her face and she started to wobble. The men both started to sprint toward Tilly, but they couldn't get to her quickly enough. She fell to the ground with a dull _thud_, her head bouncing off of the hard dirt.  
"Get Bob!" Daryl yelled as he reached her, and Rick ran to get the medic. He rolled Tilly onto her back and pulled her head into his lap, shaking her gently. "Tilly! Matilda!" She didn't even stir, but the others in camp were starting to wake up and come over to check out the scene.  
Lana pushed past everyone and dropped to her knees at Tilly's side. "What happened?" she asked frantically.  
"I… She collapsed. She was walking around fine, then she threw up and just went down."  
Daryl started to panic. _Never should have left her alone._  
A moment later, Bob was there. He pulled open her eye lids and shined his flashlight into each of her eyes, then he pressed two fingers to the side of her neck.  
"Her pupils are dilating normally. Her pulse is weak," he explained.  
"What's that mean, doc?" Lana asked, tears in her eyes. This was the second time in 24 hours she was terrified of losing her best friend.  
"She'll be fine, she's just weak. Probably dehydrated, especially since she was vomiting. We have a couple of IV bags of fluids we found in the pharmacy. Get her back to the van and we'll hook her up."  
Bob went to retrieve the supplies to place her IV, and Daryl carried her gently back to the van, Lana following close behind.

A few minutes later, once Bob had taped the tube to her hand and hung the bag from a hook in the van he turned to Daryl. "Let me know when this runs out. We have another, and we need to get as much into her as we can."  
Daryl nodded, his eyes focused on Tilly's face. "Will do."  
"Oh, " Bob turned back as he was leaving the van, "don't let her get up again. She'll probably tell you she feels fine, but she's not in her right mind. She probably won't even remember anything that happened tonight." With that, he left to return to camp.  
"Why did you let her get out of here?" Lana accused.  
"Didn't _let_ her do nothin', squirt. Rick was in here talking to her, so I was covering watch. Go yell at him if you gotta." He shooed her away with his hand, and she left to go confront Rick, closing the door behind her.  
As Daryl studied her sleeping face he thought about what Bob said. _She's not in her right mind. That's why she kissed me._ His heart sunk a bit at the thought. All he had been able to think about since it happened was doing it again, but now he was convinced it only happened because she was confused. _She won't even remember it tomorrow._  
He laid down beside her and forced himself to rest.  
Tilly woke up as the first beams of dawn shone through the van windows. She started to move her arm, and was confused when she saw it was attached to an IV bag. _What the hell is going on?_ She looked to her left and saw that Daryl was asleep beside her, lightly snoring.  
She laughed a little and shook his arm gently. He startled a bit at her touch and his eyes fluttered open. "What? Tilly? Everything alright?"  
"Everything's fine, Dixon," she answered, confused about what had him so riled up. "Care to tell me what this is all about?" She tugged gently on the tube attached to her arm.  
"You scared the shit out of me, again" he said, his voice angry. "That's what happened. You got ballsy and tried to get up and walk around. Head injury, haven't eaten in days… I'm surprised you made it as far as you did."  
"I passed out?" she asked.  
"You don't remember?"  
"I remember deciding to walk around. I felt fine. I was heading toward you and Rick, and now I'm tied up inside this van," she explained.  
"Ain't _tied up._ You're doing exactly what you should be doing, resting, getting some fluids in you."  
Tilly felt a little embarrassed. She meant it when she promised Daryl she'd be more careful, but she must have not been thinking clearly.  
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I don't know what got into me."  
He softened a bit, seeing she really did feel bad about what happened. "You took a hard blow, it's understandable that you're a little off," he said, sitting up to face her.  
"I don't want to be a burden," she sighed. "I feel so _helpless_ just lying here, and I hate it."  
Daryl nodded. He understood exactly what she was saying. It had killed him to be doted over when he was hurt on the farm, no matter how badly he was injured.  
He cleared his throat as he tried to work up the courage to talk to her about what had been on his mind since last night.  
"Do you want to talk about," he paused, "what, um, what we _did_ last night?"  
"What do you mean?" she asked, her face serious.  
Daryl didn't know what to think. "You don't remember?"  
Tilly could see him fidgeting, regretting saying anything at all, and she finally started laughing. "I'm kidding, Daryl. We kissed."  
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. _This woman,_ he thought.  
She started to sit up and Daryl quickly grabbed her arm and helped her. She turned toward him and put her hand on his. She felt him tense a bit, but that didn't stop her. "How could I ever forget that?"  
"Thought maybe it was just the head injury making you do crazy shit."  
She shook her head. "Nothing crazy about it. I wanted to do it."  
The corner of his lip turned up a little at hearing her say that. He was surprised when he felt her lay her hand gently on his cheek.  
"I'd like to do it again," she said. "That is, if you're not just tired of me being a pain in your ass by now."  
He shook his head. "Not tired of it yet." He reached a large hand up behind her head and lightly wound his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips touched.  
Feeling more confident this time, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip until she parted her mouth, allowing him to enter. He could feel her smiling against him and a growl rumbled deep in his chest as he explored her mouth.  
Tilly brought her hands down to grasp his biceps. She hadn't realized how badly she'd wanted to get ahold of them, and she squeezed them lightly, enjoying the way his hard muscles felt under her fingers.  
He allowed his hands to travel down her back, then trailed his fingers up and down her sides, eventually letting them rest on her hips. He couldn't believe how badly he wanted her in this moment, but knew that he needed to take it easy so she could heal.  
He pulled back after a long moment, resting his forehead on hers.  
"You done with me already?" she whispered, not entirely happy the kiss was over.  
He shook his head. "Nah, not nearly, but you need to take it easy. There will be plenty of time for more of this once you're back in fightin' shape."  
She nodded, knowing he was right, and sat back on her hands.  
"Speaking of shape," he began as he sat up, eyeing her thin frame, "you need to eat, for real this time. You're looking a little puny."  
"Puny?" she laughed. "Never gotten that one before. I swear, Daryl, I'm not hungry. To be honest, my stomach is still a little queasy."  
"Well, you're going to try," he ordered. "A little protein'll do ya good. Ain't gonna have you wasting away on my watch."  
"Yes, sir," she said, rolling her eyes.  
"That's what I like to hear."


	11. Chapter 11

After a quick breakfast of jerky and water, the group resumed their journey toward the farm.

The caravan moved slowly, and Bob was careful to avoid any potholes, but each bump sent another wave of pain through Tilly's head. Lana sat in the back of the van with her, and Daryl rode in the passenger seat next to Bob. The four of them drove in silence, until mid-day when Daryl's voice broke through the quiet.

"Here we are," he announced when the familiar 'Green' mailbox came into view. A minute later, Tilly felt the van come to a stop and her heart soared at the idea of finally being rid of that awful van.

Bob hopped out of the vehicle and came around to open the door as Lana helped Tilly sit up. When the doors swung open, the girls were momentarily blinded by the sunlight that spilled in on them.

"It's like busting out of that train car all over again," Tilly joked.

"Just try not to fall this time." She looked up to see Daryl had joined Bob at the door, his and both of the girls' bags thrown over his shoulder.

Bob offered his hand to Tilly, and she took it as she scooted toward the bumper. He bent so she could get her arm around his neck, and she leaned on him as she stood.

"Oh, my god." Once her eyes adjusted she was dumbfounded by what she saw around her. Sure, there were bodies of walkers strewn about, as well as the charred remnants of a barn, but the scenery was breathtaking. She turned her head slowly from side to side, admiring the soft, green grass and open fields. A statuesque white farm house stood in front of them, the front porch begging to be sat on with a glass of sweet tea and a good book.

"This is incredible," Lana marveled, just as enamored as Tilly.

"It really is somethin', right?" She turned as she heard Maggie's voice. The brunette stood beside them, staring at the home, a look of familiarity and sadness in her eyes. "I miss this place more than I could ever tell you. Ain't the same without Daddy around, though."

"Yeah," Daryl put a hand on Maggie's shoulder and smiled at the thought of the old man, "but he'd be glad we made it back here."

Maggie nodded and gave Daryl a small smile before turning to Bob. "Come on, Rick and Glenn are doing a quick sweep of the place, then we'll get you into a bed so you can get some real rest. Maybe even a shower."

Both of the girls' eyes lit up at that. Taking baths in cold creeks had gotten old long ago, and Tilly longed for a warm shower and the chance to treat her tangled hair to a proper scrubbing.

"Oh man, I think I just fell in love with you, Maggie," Tilly smiled.

"Get in line." Glenn walked up beside his wife and kissed her cheek. They had finished their sweep of the house. "All clear," he said. "We can set Tilly up in the first guest room."

Maggie grabbed Tilly's other arm to help lead her toward the house. "You'll love it in there after being stuck in that van," she explained. "There's big windows, lots of light."

After moving Tilly's bag into her new room, Lana retrieved some fresh clothes for her and she and Maggie helped hold her steady as she took a hot shower.

"Ooooh, my God," Tilly moaned as she stepped under the running water, "this is better than sex."

"Better than sex with Daryl Dixon?" Lana teased, she and Maggie erupting with laughter.

Tilly cupped her hands to catch some water and flung it at the giggling women. They both shrieked, and soon they were all nearly falling over with laughter. Even though she was the butt of their joke, Tilly was glad to have a minute to goof off with some girlfriends, just like old times.

A knock on the door interrupted them. "Everything alright in there?" Rick called, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"I'm just in here being bullied, bossman, it's all good," Tilly answered.

Rick chuckled, "Take it easy on her, ladies. Tilly, when you get out of there try and get some rest. I'll have Carol bring you lunch."

"Will do."

"And don't use all the hot water!" he lightheartedly ordered.

"No promises!" Tilly yelled, and the girls resumed their laughing.

After drying off and putting on the clean jeans and long-sleeved shirt Lana had given her, Tilly was finally able to take advantage of the nice, warm bed she had been dreaming of for months. She rested her aching head on the soft pillows and quickly drifted off.

She spent the next 24 hours wavering in and out of sleep, only waking to eat or briefly visit with whoever came to check on her. The rest did her a world of good, and by the next afternoon Bob had cleared her to get out of bed as long as she promised to take it easy. That wasn't a hard deal for her to make. The pain in her head had dulled and she was anxious to soak up whatever amount of time she had in that beautiful place.

When Bob finished removing her bandage, Maggie entered the room carrying another set of clothes and a hairbrush.

"Here," Maggie said, handing her the brush, "go get cleaned up and you can head on outside."

Tilly was grateful to do some damage control on her mop of hair. Lying in bed hadn't done it any favors. She went to the bathroom, and studied her face in the mirror as she brushed her hair and pulled it into a pony tail. The bruise on her head was beginning to lighten and turn yellow, and the gash seemed to be healing well enough. The stitches were a little unsightly, she thought, but Bob had informed her they only needed to stay in a few more days. All-in-all, she thought she looked pretty decent.

"How's it goin'?" Lana asked, stepping into the bathroom.

"Good as I could hope," Tilly answered. "Is it superficial to say I miss my eyeliner, though?"

Lana laughed, "Yeah, but it doesn't surprise me to hear you say that."

From a young age, Tilly had always been the girlier of the two friends. Lana preferred comfort and Tilly was willing to sacrifice it for style. She thought back on how Lana used to roll her eyes at her each morning as she sat in front of the mirror, meticulously applying her "face."

Tilly remained in front of the mirror a minute longer, smoothing the strands of hair that escaped her hairtie.

"You look _fine,_" Lana sighed, grabbing her arm and leading her toward the door. "Now get your ass outside and get some air. It'll do ya good."

A few minutes later, Tilly found herself sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, quietly admiring the view.

"I've really missed this place," Glenn said, walking out of the house and taking a seat next to her.

"Tell me about it," Tilly said gently. "Tell me about what happened when you were here before."

Glenn took a deep breath, "We came here because Carl was accidentally shot by a man named Otis, who worked on the farm. We set up a base here while he healed so we could look for Carol's daughter Sophia. She went missing after a herd of walkers came through while we were on the highway."

He told her about the barn, and how Hershel kept walkers in there because he believed they were sick.

"Rick's best friend Shane was with us back then. He was kind of a loose cannon, and he butted heads with Rick a lot. When he found out about the barn, he went nuts. He handed out all of our guns, then went and opened the barn. When we thought we had killed them all," Glenn paused, wringing his hands as he recalled the story, "Sophia walked out. She was one of them, in there the whole time."

Tilly gasped, unable to hide her shock at the revelation. Tears burned her eyes as her heart broke for Carol.

Glenn continued their story, telling her about how they found Randall after Hershel took off to the bar in town and they were attacked. He told her about his friend Dale, and how he was gutted in the field by a walker.

"Then Shane," he looked down at his shoes, "he just went crazy. He took Randall out into the woods, snapped his neck, so he could lure Rick out there. Lori was pregnant, Shane thought it was his, and he needed Rick out of the way. He tried to kill him, but Rick won. He killed him, and Carl put him down when he turned. After that, the herd came through and we were driven out. Two of us were killed, Patricia and Jimmy, and Andrea got left behind. That's a long story for another time."

Tilly's mouth hung open at everything he had just told her. She wasn't sure exactly how to respond, and looking around at the beautiful scenery it was hard to imagine it had seen so much loss.

"So much happened here," Tilly said, looking Glenn in the eye. "I don't understand why you all missed it so much. I would think this would be a painful place for ya'll."

"The whole world is a painful place, Tilly," he responded. "You have to look for bright spots. As many terrible things that happened here, there were some great ones, too. This is where I fell in love with Maggie," he smiled. "It's where I met Hershel."

Glenn pulled an old gold watch from his pocket. "We were standing in the dining room when he gave me this, when he told me that he trusted me to be with his daughter." A tear ran down his cheek as he stared down at the timepiece in his palm.

Tilly stood and stepped in from of Glenn, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and embraced her back. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Glenn," she said as she pulled away. "I'm glad I was able to visit this place with you all. It's been so long since we've known any bit of peace. I feel like I can relax and catch my breath here."

Glenn nodded, "It's the perfect place for that. We're going to have Hershel's memorial in the morning, then we'll be back on the road, so enjoy it while you can." He squeezed her shoulder and he got up and walked back into the house.

She spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around and chatting with everyone she could. She wanted to take advantage of this break to get to know the rest of the group. When the sun began to set, she joined Carol in preparing dinner for everyone. They gathered what vegetables had somehow survived being untended since they left, and along with a couple of rabbits Daryl killed they were able to make a nice stew. Tilly was grateful for the Green's plentiful spice rack, and her mouth watered at the idea of a properly seasoned meal.

When the stew was done, the whole group gathered around the large dining room table. Everyone seemed more relaxed in this atmosphere. Even though they all knew deep down that no place was truly safe anymore, it seemed they had all let their guard down a bit and allowed themselves to enjoy the moment.

When they had all received their food, Rick stood and clinked his fork to his glass. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said formally. "To those who never made it off the farm. To Otis, Patricia, Jimmy, Dale-" he paused, "and to Shane. May they be in a better place."

The group raised their glasses, and Rick returned to his seat. Tilly could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke of Shane. She had a feeling that despite what happened between them, Rick still missed his best friend and what their friendship once was.

The group ate in silence for a minute before Lana spoke up. "Hey, whose guitar is that?" she asked, pointing to the instrument standing in the corner of the room.

"Mine," Glenn replied. "Well, sorta. Dale found it on the highway and gave it to me. I don't play, though."

"She does," Tilly smiled, pointing a thumb toward Lana. "We used to go to open mic nights all the time in college. She's really good."

A smile crossed Sasha's face. "Well, quit teasing us and show us what you got!"

Tyreese nudged his sister's arm. "Let the girl finish her supper first," he chided.

"Don't worry," Lana laughed, "I've never turned down an invitation to play. After supper we'll give ya a show, huh Tills?"

"You play, too?" Glenn asked Tilly.

She shook her head. "Nah, I tried but I was never any good. I sang with her sometimes."

"We do a killer Judds cover," Lana bragged.

"Oh!" Maggie perked up. "Do you know 'Grandpa?' That used to be mine and my sister's favorite."

Lana nodded, "That's always been our favorite, too."

It was agreed that after they were done with their meal the girls would play the song for the group.

When the last of them had finished, they gathered in the living room, Daryl staying behind for a moment to help Carol move the dishes into the sink. Though they would be leaving soon, and probably would never return, it didn't seem right to not clean the place up before they went.

When they had all settled in, Tilly and Lana took their place on the piano bench at the end of the room, the guitar across the brunette's knee.

She began to strum the first chords of the song, and then Tilly began to sing. "Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good ole days. Sometimes it feels like this world's gone crazy."

It was a fitting song, considering the state of the world they lived in, she thought. She finished the verse before Lana joined in to harmonize the chorus.

"Do lovers really fall in love to stay? Stand beside each other come what may? Is a promise really somethin' people kept, not just somethin' they would say?..."

Tilly looked around the room as she sang, and locked eyes with Daryl. For once, he looked relaxed, a small smile on his lips as he listened to them. Tilly returned his smile and winked at him before looking at the others.

Sasha and Bob were snuggled on a couch, Glenn sat on the floor in front of Maggie, his arm draped over her knee, and Carl hugged Judith in his lap, his father's arm over his shoulder. If she didn't know better, she would think everything was right with the world. She remembered Glenn's words from earlier. _The world is a painful place. You have to find the bright spots._ This was definitely a much needed bright spot.

As Lana played the last chord, the others applauded.

"Beautiful, ladies," Tyreese offered. "I hadn't realized how badly I missed just listening to music."

Carol walked up and put her arm around Lana's shoulder. "That was wonderful. You guys really are talented."

"Think I could take the guitar when we go?" Lana asked Rick hopefully. "Take this show on the road?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, I think that'd be nice, as long as we have room for it. Won't really be able to play when we're camping out in the open, but it might be nice to have some entertainment every once in a while."

"Can you guys play another?" Carl asked, his eyes bright.

"That's enough for right now, son," Rick answered. "Tilly needs to get some rest. Maybe they can play something at Hershel's memorial tomorrow."

"I'd like that," Tilly said. "You all speak so highly of him, I'd be honored to do it."

Tilly started to get up and make her way to the bedroom and in a second Daryl was beside her, grabbing her arm. She felt pretty good and didn't really need his support, but she was glad he was helping her. She hoped to finally have a moment alone with him. She hadn't been able to talk to him much since they'd been at the farm.

She said her goodnights to everyone else and he led her back to her bed.

"Sit," she said as she laid back on the bed, patting the space beside her. He shut the door and sat down next to her. "You glad to be back here?" she asked.

"I guess," he said, chewing on his lip. "Brings back a lot of stuff about Sophia, but it's nice to be somewhere familiar. That doesn't happen much anymore."

"Is Sophia the reason you and Carol are close?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I think I was the only one who hadn't given up on finding her, except maybe Carl. At least we know what happened to her, even if it wasn't how we'd hoped."

"Yeah," Tilly agreed softly, not really knowing what else to say. "Hey, would you, uh, want to stay here with me tonight?"

Daryl hesitated for a moment, considering how it might look to the others if he slept there.

"Please?" Tilly asked again, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Think you're going to charm me into getting your way?" he teased, taking off his boots.

"Yes," she smiled. "Is it working?"

"Nope," he said, climbing under the covers next to her. "Not even a little."

He gently laid his arm across her and she rolled on her side to face him.

"Thanks," she said softly.

He nodded, and leaned in to kiss her forehead, careful to avoid her injuries.

"Goodnight, Matilda."

"Night, Daryl."


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning the group gathered around a wooden cross, situated next to the graves of Annette, Shawn, Dale and Sophia at the edge of the farm. The morning air was chilled, signaling to the survivors that winter was quickly approaching. The sun shone brightly, and cool wind whipped Tilly's hair as she and Lana sang an old hymn Maggie said her father had loved.

When the women finished, Rick stepped forward and stood at the head of the grave, an old Bible in his hand.

"For in this hope we are saved," he read. "Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." He closed the book and looked toward the group.

"If I look a little uncomfortable holding this thing, that's because I am," Rick said, holding up the Bible. "But Hershel found comfort in these words. It's hard to imagine anyone could remain hopeful in this world, but he somehow managed. He never lost faith. No matter how bad things got, he always believed there was a plan, that someday we would find the light at the end of all of this."

"At one time, I thought that hope was foolish, that it made him weak." Rick shook his head. "No, it made him strong, it made him brave and unafraid," Rick's voice faltered a little and Tilly looked up to see tears running from the corners of his eyes. "He was the bravest person I've ever known. When the flu broke out in the prison, he selflessly risked his life to make sure as many people as possible survived until medicine arrived. He's the sole reason Glenn and Sasha are both still with us, and I know we're all eternally grateful for all he did. We loved him, and he deeply loved all of us. He proved that through his actions every day."

By that point, there was barely a dry eye in the circle. Even the members who hadn't known Hershel were touched by Rick's words. A few other stepped forward to share stories about the man, and they each laid a stone at the base of the cross before returning to the house to pack their things.

"We've decided to go with Abraham, Eugene and Rosita to Washington, DC," Rick announced once the cars were loaded. "We've exhausted the supplies in this area, and we can't just spend the rest of our lives going in circles. It's time to move on."

There was shock on some of their faces, but no one spoke up to disagree with the leader.

Abraham stepped beside Rick, his rifle leaned across his chest. "Our mission," he said, "is to keep Eugene alive and get him to Washington. He will continue communicating with officials on his phone, so they will be expecting us."

Tilly couldn't help but notice Eugene was acting a little fidgety while Abraham spoke, holding his satellite phone tightly against his chest.

"Have _you_ spoken to any of these _officials_?" Michonne asked. It appeared she was just as skeptical as Tilly.

"I have not, ma'am," the sergeant answered. "The information they are exchanging is classified, and I do not have clearance to hear it at this time."

She didn't look satisfied with his answer, but stayed silent, scowling slightly at the man.

Rick explained that they would first look for a gas station so they could hopefully siphon some gas and find a map, and soon their small caravan was driving off of the Green farm and onto the highway.

Tilly, Lana, Daryl and Bob once again rode in the van, with Carol joining them this time. Two other vehicles drove in front of them carrying the rest of the group.

"So," Lana began, "none of us are buying Eugene's bullshit story, right?"

A chorus of 'no' and 'no fucking way' rippled throughout the van.

"Alright," she continued, "just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

"Why do you think Rick is going through with this?" Tilly asked to no one in particular.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Carol answered from the passenger seat. "Like he said, it's time for us to move on anyway. Who knows, even if Eugene is lying there may still be some sort of safe zone there."

"Let's not get our hopes up," Daryl said dryly. "Ain't nowhere we've found been _safe_, and a big city like that is bound to be chock full of geeks. I think we're walking into a death trap."

"Then why didn't you say something back there?" Lana asked.

Daryl shook his head. "Not my decision."

Tilly couldn't help but wonder if they were following Rick just as blindly as Abraham was following Eugene. It seemed that no one in the group was willing to question his judgment, at least not to his face.

After a while, the caravan slowed as they pulled up next to a gas station. Three cars sat abandoned at the pumps and the front window of the building was shattered.

As everyone assembled near a light pole in the parking lot, they heard Abraham whistle.

"Walkers," he said quietly, pointing down the road. Half-a-dozen corpses shambled toward them, most likely attracted by the noise of their vehicles.

"We can handle them," Rick responded. "Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, come on."

Abraham followed behind them as well as they approached the walkers. When they were no more than 20 feet away, Daryl let an arrow fly into the head of the nearest one. The others broke off to take care of the rest.

Once they were dispatched, they returned to the parking lot.

"Alright, Daryl and I will go in and check the building. Once it's clear, Tilly and Glenn will come in and help us gather anything useful," Rick ordered. "Tyreese, Sasha, Rosita and Bob, I want you all to siphon as much gas as you can out of those cars. The rest of you keep watch. Yell if there's any trouble."

Tilly took her place beside Glenn outside of the gas station while they waited for Rick to give the all clear. She heard a crash, followed by the _whoosh_ of Daryl's crossbow, and then the men came back outside.

"It's clear," Rick said. "Let's see what we can find. I'll look for a map."

Tilly and Glenn put tucked their guns away and followed them into the store. A lone walker laid on the ground under a stack of boxes, a hole in his forehead where Daryl's arrow once was. The shelves were already picked over, but they managed to find three large jugs of water in the break room, along with a box of granola bars, some instant coffee and a few lighters. Rick grabbed a map of Georgia as well as a map of the United States from beside the counter and stuck them in his bag.

"Nothing else to find here," he started. "Let's go back-"

"Rick!" He was interrupted by a frantic whisper from the front door. Tilly looked up to see Tyreese poking his head inside. "Guys, we have to move! Walkers!"

The four of them ran outside as Tyreese pointed in the direction of the walkers they killed earlier. A herd of what looked like several hundred undead lumbered in the distance.

"Shit!" Rick whispered, waving for everyone to come to him. "Alright, they're still pretty far off, we have time. Load what you have so far into the cars and we'll get out of here. We can stop to gas the cars when we've put some distance between us."

Everyone nodded and began quickly, but quietly, shoving their discoveries into the cars.

A scream erupted from the front of the van and Tilly rushed toward it, finding Bob lying on the ground, a walker on top of him snapping at his face. A smaller herd of 20 or so had snuck up on them from the side.

"There's more, guys!" Tilly yelled as her boot connected with the face of the walker on top of Bob. It rolled off, and she quickly jumped on top of it and slid her knife into its rotted eye. She helped Bob to his feet and noticed blood on his torn shirt.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded. "Just ripped my shirt."

Tilly turned away from him, toward the encroaching walkers. Carol, Lana and Daryl were beside her a moment later, and they fought against the herd.

"No use!" Rick yelled from several feet away. "We can't handle them. Grab what you can, then we have to run!"

Tilly pulled her knife from the head of another corpse and bolted back toward the van, grabbing her pack and tossing Lana hers. The others did the same and then they were off, running behind Rick toward the woods.

"Come on!" he yelled as they weaved through the trees. "We need to find somewhere, a building, to hide if we can."

They all ran for several more minutes until Rick felt they had put a decent amount of space between themselves and the herds, then they stopped to regroup and rest.

Tilly's head pounded a bit, but she chose to ignore it.

"Here," Carol said, holding out a water bottle.

She took it gladly and smiled at the woman in thanks.

Rick pulled the map of Georgia from his bag and unfolded it, holding it against a tree. He and Daryl studied the map, trying to figure out how they could get back to the highway eventually.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice called from behind them.

The group spun around, several of them raising their guns as they stood facing a tall black man dressed as a priest.

"Identify yourself!" Abraham barked, his gun pointed at the man's head.

The preacher raised his hands in surrender. "Gabriel Stokes," he choked out. "F-Father Gabriel Stokes. I mean you no harm."

"Are you armed?" Rick pried.

"Only with the word of God," he answered.

Rick motioned to Daryl to keep his crossbow trained on the man as he approached him. Without saying a word, he began to pat Gabriel from the shoulders down, checking him for any weapons. Finding none, he stepped back and motioned for him to put his arms down.

"Are you alone?" Rick asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I have a church about a mile from here, but I've been alone since this began. Do you guys happen to have any food?"

Lana reached into her pack and pulled out a granola bar, passing it to the preacher.

"Bless you, thank you," he said gratefully. "If you all are willing to spare a bit more, I could give you shelter for a couple of days."

Tilly scanned the man with her eyes. He looked harmless and generally terrified, but she was wary of anyone who claimed to have been alone this long.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked, beginning his standard list of questions.

"None," Gabriel replied.

Rick raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing the man, but he continued, "How many people have you killed?"

"None."

"Why?" Rick asked, most interested in the answer to this particular question.

"The Lord abhors violence," Gabriel answered.

"How have you survived this long without killing so much as a walker?" Daryl asked, lowering his crossbow just a bit.

"I've stayed close to my church for the most part," he explained. "This is the farthest I've been. The outbreak hit right at the end of our annual food drive, so thankfully I was able to live off of that for a long while."

Rick rubbed his chin as he thought about what the Father had said. "Alright," he said. "We'll come with you, but if you try anything I will not hesitate to kill you."

"You won't get any trouble from me," Gabriel replied, beginning to lead them in the direction of his church.

"Something's not right, Daryl," Tilly whispered to the hunter as she caught up to him. "Ever since we've been in these woods I've felt like someone was watching us."

"Probably just Father Useless up there," he replied.

"No," she shook her head. "I still feel it now."

"Just keep your eyes open," he said. "There's definitely something off about all of this."

The church was less than a mile away, and as they entered the parking lot Rick called out to Gabriel. "That's close enough. We'll have a look around before we go in," he ordered.

"Be my guest," Gabriel smiled.

Rick, Daryl and Glenn went inside the church, searching everywhere for any sign of other people or weapons while Abraham, Rosita and Carl swept the area around the building.

"Nothin' in there," Daryl announced when he returned. "If there was anything, or anyone, we would have found it."

"Go on in," Rick ordered to the group, and they all began to move their belongings inside.

"Hey, Dad!" Carl called, still looking around the back of the church.

When Rick found his son, he was staring at a shutter on the side of the building. "Look at this," Carl said, pointing to scratches in the wood. "These are deep, from knives, not walkers."

"There's something he's not telling us," Rick explained, "but for now it's safe. Let's go inside."

Night came a few hours later, and Father Gabriel brought out a few bottles of forgotten communion wine for them to share. The mood lightened a little as everyone became more relaxed, and they spoke further about their plans to go to DC.

Sasha and Bob snuggled next to each other at the end of a pew, stealing a few kisses occasionally.

"I'll be back," Bob said, kissing Sasha on the cheek. "Gotta go use the facilities."

She laughed as he stood, and he leaned down to kiss her one more time, letting his lips linger longer than normal.

"Be careful!" she called as he walked toward the front doors.

"Always am," he smiled, and then walked outside, closing the doors behind him.

As he approached the treeline, Bob turned to take one last, long glance back at the building that held all of the people he cared about. He heard a branch snap behind him, and turned just as something smashed into his head, knocking him unconscious.

When Bob began to wake, he was assaulted by the overwhelming smell of smoke. He blinked his eyes, willing them to open against the bright light of the fire that flickered in front of him. When he was finally able to focus, he found himself face-to-face with a man he'd hoped to never see again.

"Hey there, Bob," Gareth smiled, his form silhouetted by the fire light.

Bob began to panic, realizing that he was leaned against a post surrounded by several surviving members of Terminus.

"Shh, shh," Gareth comforted, "I want you to know that this is nothing personal, Bob. We would have settled for anyone."

Bob was disoriented, pain radiating through his body. "W-Wha-" he croaked, his eyes catching the glimpse of something long and dark lying across the fire.

"I'm sorry, Bob," Gareth continued, "but a man's gotta eat."

Bob's eyes grew wide as he looked down at the stump where he leg once was. He looked toward the fire again, now realizing what they were cooking.

Gareth grinned maniacally as Bob put the pieces together. "If it makes any difference," he said, holding a piece of meat to his mouth and taking a bite, "you taste much better than we expected."

"HA!" Bob cried. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He laughed madly in the face of the cannibal.

"What the fuck, dude?" another of the Termites questioned, his mouth full of meat. "You lost your damn mind?"

"You're eating tainted meat!" Bob howled.

"What the fu-" Gareth gagged as Bob raised his shirt, revealing the bite he sustained at the gas station and had hidden from the group.

"Oh, my God!" Gareth screamed, and the Termites began shoving their fingers down their throats, trying for force themselves to vomit.

"TAINTED MEAT! TAINTED MEAT!" Bob continued to scream, his insane laughter echoing through the camp.

Back at the church, the others were gearing up to search for Bob, who hadn't yet returned. Sasha began to panic, accusing Father Gabriel of being involved in his disappearance.

"You know something!" she yelled at him, Tyreese, Rick and Abraham stood behind her in case the preacher lashed out. "You show up, and all of a sudden Bob is missing!"

"I-I don't know anything," Gabriel stammered. "I promise you, I haven't hurt anyone."

Rick stepped in front of Sasha, pointing his finger in Father Gabriel's face. "This is all too _perfect_," Rick accused. "There is no way you haven't done anything to anyone this entire time. I want you to drop the act right now and tell me what's _really_ going on, or my friend Abraham over there's going to put a bullet in your head. Got it?"

Abraham raised his gun, aiming his sights on the preacher's forehead.

Gabriel sighed, raising his hands in defeat. "The truth?"

"Yes, the truth," Rick responded.

Gabriel sat down on the platform at the front of the church, his eyes trained on the ground as he spoke. "When this all began, I was here. Alone. I heard things outside, so I locked up to be safe. The next day, people starting coming. Only a few at first, neighbors, members of my congregation, then more as the days went on."

"You left them out there," Tilly accused, realizing where his story was going.

"Yes," he nodded, "I turned them away. I needed the food here to survive until I was rescued. I couldn't spare any. They stayed out there, though," tears began to flow down his cheeks, and he looked up at the group. "They stayed, until the dead came. Women, children, entire families… I heard their screams as they were ripped apart. Some of them called out my name, damning me to Hell for what I had done."

Rick sat back on the front pew and Abraham lowered his gun as they tried to process what Gabriel was saying.

"I chose my life over theirs," he cried. "I know what I did. I know what I _deserve_. Please," he begged, "please, just kill me. I forgive you, but please kill me. It's God's will, why he sent you here."

"No," Rick shook his head.

"They all _died_ because of me. You have to make this right."

The group sat in stunned silence as Gabriel broke into sobs, holding his face in his hands.

Tilly woke with a start the next morning, hearing a knock at the door of the church. She looked around to see the others were awake as well, with the exception of Gabriel, who had cried himself to sleep at the front of the church after revealing his story.

"Maybe that's Bob!" Sasha called, sprinting for the door.

She stopped suddenly as she opened the door and screamed.

"What is it?" Tyreese asked, and the rest of the group ran to see what had her so upset.

As they reached the door, they understood. Bob lay in a heap in front of them, one leg missing. He was breathing, but unconscious.

"Get him inside!" Rick ordered, signaling for Glenn to help him carry the man.

A gun shot rang out and Glenn cried out in pain.

"Glenn!" Maggie screamed, running toward him. Tilly caught her by the arm and held her inside.

"Everyone, inside!" Abraham ordered helping Glenn up as Rick drug Bob into the church, locking the door behind him.

"My leg," Glenn hissed, pulling up his pant leg and revealing the hole where the bullet had passed through. Maggie quickly ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt and tied it above the wound.

"Stay low!" Rick commanded.

Father Gabriel had finally woken up and joined the group. "You can take those two into the Sunday School rooms and treat them," he offered. Rick and Tyreese picked up Bob and carried him into one of the rooms, while Tilly and Maggie helped Glenn to another.

Maggie cleaned and stitched Glenn's wound as well as she could, and hoped that the bullet hadn't done serious damage. She had picked up a bit of medical knowledge from her father, but she was nowhere near as skilled as he and Bob were.

In the other room, Carol worked to clean Bob's stump, while Sasha looked on.

"There's blood on his shirt," Sasha informed Carol. "Whoever did this may have stabbed him or something, too."

Carol nodded, and stood to raise his shirt. "Oh," she gasped, her mouth hanging open.

Sasha rushed to her side, clasping her hand to her mouth as she looked at his wound. "No, no, no," she cried. "That's not-"

"It's a bite, Sasha," Carol confirmed. "I'm sorry." She reached for the gun tucked in the back of her pants, but Sasha grabbed her hand.

"Please," she begged, "I know what has to be done, but can we at least wait a while to see if he wakes up? I need to talk to him. Please."

Carol paused for a moment, considering her options before finally removing her hand from her weapon. "Alright," she said. "Hopefully he'll be able to tell us who did this to him. You'll have to stay with him, though. Let us know when he wakes up. Rick will want to talk to him."

Sasha nodded, and sat down on the floor next to Bob, who was sweating profusely. His breathing was shallow and quick, but he was still alive for the moment.

"I'm so sorry, Bob," Sasha whispered once Carol had returned to the sanctuary with the others. "I'm sorry that I let you go out there alone. I'm sorry that I waited so long to show you I cared about you. I'm sorry I can't save you."

"Hey, shhhh," Bob's voice was weak as his eyes fluttered open. "Don't be sorry," he said, a weak smile on his lips. "I got the chance to be with you. It may not seem like it as I lay here now, but I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Tears rolled down Sasha's face as she looked into his eyes. They somehow remained calm and joyful despite the fact that he was dying.

"Rick will want to talk to you," she explained, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "You up for it?"

Bob gave her a weak nod and she went to fetch Rick.

"Hey," Rick greeted as he walked into the makeshift infirmary, lying his hand on Bob's shoulder for a moment. "Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"Gareth," Bob replied.

"Gareth?" Rick was shocked. "He's alive?"

Bob nodded. "He's not the only one. There are several members of Terminus out there. They have a camp. They've been _hunting_ us. They cut off my leg and ate it. I told them I was infected, then I passed out. I guess they brought me back when they realized I wasn't of use to them anymore."

Rick shook his head, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at Bob's tale. "Is that why you left last night?" he asked.

"I didn't want Sasha, any of you, to see my like this," he answered. "It happened at the gas station."

Rick stood and began to walk back toward the sanctuary. "We'll find them. I promise. Know that they'll pay for what they've done."

"Rick?" Bob called out, and Rick turned back to face him. "Thank you for everything."

Rick nodded in acknowledgment. "We'll take care of Sasha. So don't worry about that."

"I know," he replied. "I'm not worried about that at all."

The men exchanged one last glance before Rick returned to the others.

"It's Gareth," Rick announced as he walked into the sanctuary, the others spinning to face him.

"What?" Daryl asked. "But you-"

"Yeah, I shot him," Rick interrupted. "He survived, so did several others. Bob says they have a camp nearby and have been hunting us."

"Hunting?" Tilly asked, confused.

"For food," Rick answered. "Bob was bitten at the gas station, which is why he left."

_He said it just ripped his shirt,_ Tilly thought. _How could I have not noticed the bite?_

"He wandered off into the woods to die," Rick continued. "The captured him, cut off his leg and," he paused, not wanting to finish the sentence, "they _ate_ it."

"Oh, God," Lana gasped, turning to empty the contents of her stomach between two pews. "Sorry about that, Father," she said as she stood up.

"No apology needed," Gabriel replied, a look of disgust on his face.

Rick explained how Bob had revealed he was infected and they dumped him back in front of the church.

"They must've hung around to see if they could find a replacement," Abraham added. "Speaking of," he said, turning to Maggie, "Glenn alright?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "He'll be fine. He's sleeping."

A sudden gunshot made everyone jump, and a tearful Sasha made her way into the room, tucking her gun into the back of her pants. No one needed to ask what had happened.

"We're going to find them," Rick said, his face hardened in determination. "We're going to make them pay. We leave after dark."


	13. Chapter 13

Night had fallen, and Rick stood in front of the church, briefing the group on his plan.

"We'll only take a small group. I don't think they're waiting for us outside anymore. They just wanted to scare us," he said confidently. "So we're going to do the opposite of what they expect. We aren't going to _hide._ We're going to find them."

Abraham stepped up beside the leader. "Rick and I have discussed the best plan of action. Daryl, we'll need you to help us find them. Do you think you'll be able to track them down?"

Daryl nodded, "We know the direction the shot came from. We didn't hear a car when they left Bob, either, so chances are they're close, walking distance. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Good," the sergeant continued. "Michonne, you'll be coming as well."

The woman nodded silently, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

Rick scanned the group for a moment, thinking. "We also need someone who is a good shot."

"Tilly is," Lana spoke up, pointing to her friend. "She kicked mine and my brother's asses every time we went to the range, shot competitively for a while."

"Why didn't you mention that sooner?" Rick asked Tilly.

She shrugged. "Haven't had much use for guns since we've been with you so far."

"Well, we have use for them now," he said. "You up for it?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "Let's kill those bastards."

Gabriel stood from the front pew. "Now, I'm afraid I can't condone this type of vengeance. I think we should just leave, get far away from them."

"They'll follow us," Daryl said. "They've been following us since we left Terminus. What makes you think they would stop?"

"He's right, Gabriel," Rick began, "they won't stop. You'll be coming with us, too. I'm still not keen on leaving you here with my children, and you're more familiar with the area than we are. You could be of some assistance if Daryl loses the trail."

Gabriel hung his head. "Ok, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be any help in a fight."

"We assumed that," Abraham replied.

Rick clapped his hands together, "Alright, I'll speak to all of you who are coming with us in the back. The rest of you, stay quiet and stay away from the doors until we're back. No one else leaves."

A few minutes later, after being briefed on the plan by Rick the group set out, easily finding the hunters' trail at the edge of the woods in front of the church.

"Dumb bastards didn't even know enough to much up their own trail," Daryl scoffed as he walked through the trees, his eyes on the ground.

The forest was only lit dimly by the moon, and Tilly was impressed he was able to follow their trail in the dark.

They walked for another hour, Daryl continually reminding them all to walk more quietly.

"There's a neighborhood just beyond those trees there," Gabriel said, pointing ahead of them.

"Seems to be where the trail leads," Daryl nodded. He put his finger to his lips, shushing them all once more as he crouched lower and walked toward the neighborhood.

"A group of them left the church a little while ago," a man's voice said from the other side of the tree line.

"But part of their group is still at the church?" they heard someone else ask.

"That's Gareth," Rick whispered. "You all know the plan. Get to your places and wait for my signal. Keep your eyes open."

Everyone nodded and broke off to assume their previously decided positions.

"You think they were headed after us?" the first man questioned.

"Nah," Gareth said, "we have them scared. Probably just went out to search for supplies. I'm surprised they risked coming out, though, after we shot their man. I want to you go back to the church, try and grab another one. Someone's bound to get stupid and come out the use the bathroom eventually."

Tilly watched the hunters through the trees as they spoke. Gareth sounded incredibly confident he was going to take out their entire group, and the rest of them were inspired by his swagger.

"You know what," Gareth continued, "get more than one if you can. If we get their numbers down we'll keep them afraid. We can probably capture them all in a few days if we're careful."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Rick called, stepping out of the trees and into their camp.

The Termites pointed their guns toward the man, but Gareth raised a hand, signaling them to lower them as he approached Rick.

"Well, well, if it isn't _the_ Rick Grimes," Gareth smiled. "You guys did a pretty good number on our base. Bet you thought you'd made a clean getaway, huh?"

"We did," Rick nodded. "Til you showed up and tried to _eat_ one of my people."

"Sorry about that, Rick," Gareth replied. "I have to feed my group somehow, and there aren't exactly a ton of people around for us to hunt anymore."

Rick's hand hovered at his hip, fingers brushing the handle of his python. One of the hunters noticed and raised his gun.

"Nuh uh," Gareth clicked his tongue and pushed the man's gun back down. "We're just talking. We're not going to shoot you while we're talking. Plus, we're not big on guns anyway. We don't exactly have the option of refrigeration, so we need to keep our game _fresh_."

Rick struggled to keep his disgust and rage hidden as he listened to Gareth say these things, a smile still on the cannibal's face.

"Let's just cut to the chase," Rick injected. "Is any amount of talking going to convince you to stop coming after our people?"

"Probably not," Gareth shrugged. "If we don't hunt, we starve. I'm afraid it's us or you."

Rick nodded. "I figured you'd say that. You mind telling me what happened to you all to make you turn to this?"

"It's simple," Gareth explained, "we were hungry. Animals are hard to catch, fast, cunning. We needed easier game, so we did what we had to do. You know what a bear will do if it's starving, Rick? A bear will eat it's own cub if there's no other food. The logic is, that if the bear starves, the cub will die anyway. If the bear survives, it can always make another cub."

"I fail to see your point," Rick replied, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"We had children with us at first," Gareth continued, clearing his throat. "Needless to say, once we got past that eating strangers was easy."

Rick struggled to keep from launching himself at the man. He spoke so factually about the unthinkable things they had done, showing no remorse whatsoever.

"You're all going to pay for the things you've done. Tonight."

Gareth laughed, "I'm afraid you're not leaving, Rick. We're all pretty hungry after our last meal fell through."

"You didn't think I'd come alone, did you?" Rick replied.

"He's bluffing," a man in a baseball cap scoffed.

"Am I?" Rick asked. "Watch this." He held his hand in front of him, making a gun with his fingers and pointing it toward the man in the hat. "Tilly, baseball cap. Right ear. Pow."

As soon as the last word left his mouth, a gunshot sounded and the man dropped to the ground, blood spilling between the fingers of the hand he held against his ear.

The rest of the hunters gasped, stopping to stare at their friend.

"Abraham," Rick yelled, "come take their guns."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant answered, stepping out of the trees.

Another one of the Termites stepped forward, pointing his finger at Rick. "We're not giving up our guns! You're still outnumbered, asshole."

Another gunshot rang out, and the man's finger fell to the ground, blood pouring from his hand as he screamed.

"Hand them over," Abraham ordered, beginning to snatch the guns.

The smile finally disappeared from Gareth's face as Abraham took possession of the last of their weapons. He stepped closer to Rick, hands raised.

"Look, Rick," he pleaded, "it doesn't have to be like this. We'll leave your people alone."

Rick shook his head. "It's a little late for that," he replied. "It's us or you, remember? Well, I choose us." With that, he kicked the man in the stomach and watched as he crumbled to the ground.

Rick whistled, and Tilly, Gabriel, Michonne and Daryl revealed themselves.

"Oh, hey," Gareth called out when he recognized Michonne, "we, uh, we have your sword. You can have it back, take whatever you want and just go. We won't give you any trouble."

A smile crossed Michonne's face as she spotted her katana lying across a nearby picnic table. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll definitely be taking that with me."

Panic showed on the faces of Gareth and the rest of his group as they stood frozen.

"What are you going to do to us?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Rick replied. "Still thinking about that one, but I can tell you it won't be good. Maybe we'll carve off a piece and have us a taste."

Gabriel stood at the edge of the woods, clutching a Bible against his chest. "Rick, I-"

Rick held up a hand to silence the preacher.

"Please," Gareth begged from his knees, tears running down his face. "Just leave us here. We'll leave your people alone."

"That's not what you were saying a minute ago," Rick replied, pulling his gun from the holster. "If I recall, you just told me you planned on hunting down all of my people and _eating_ them. Don't worry, though," he continued, "we're not really going to eat you."

Rick began walking toward the terrified hunters, and the rest of his group followed. "You may not want to watch, Gabriel," he called, not looking at the preacher. "Guys, put him on the picnic table. Hold him down."

The rest of the night passed in a flurry of blood, fire and painful cries as Gabriel sat weeping, his head buried in his Bible.

When the group stepped back from the massacre, the ground was littered with what was left of the hunters.

Gabriel stood, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, but this in unacceptable." Tears ran down his face. "There's no way to justify this… brutality."

Tilly stepped in front of him, her face inches from his. "What the fuck is your problem?" she yelled, rage oozing from her words. "These people killed and ate their _children._ They wanted to do the same to us. We stopped that. I know it's hard, but maybe if you had _seen _the faces of those people you abandoned getting ripped apart, instead of hiding inside like a goddamned coward, you'd be willing to do _anything_ to keep it from happening again."

She felt Daryl's hand on her shoulder, guiding him away from the man as the others stood in shock, but agreement, at her outburst.

"Let's get out of here," Daryl said, putting his arm around her waist and turning her toward the direction of the church, the others following behind them.

The group reached the church before sunrise, and Rick volunteered to keep watch, unable to sleep after what just happened.

"Rick, we're going to need to talk about-" Abraham began after the rest of the group had gone inside.

"Not now, Abraham," Rick pleaded, sitting on the steps of the church. "I just need a minute."

Abraham nodded and went inside.

As Rick sat, staring at the horizon as the dark sky changed to shades of orange, he tried to justify to himself the barbaric things they had done that night.

He heard the door to the church open behind him, but kept his eyes forward.

"Abraham," he began, "I'm sorry I blew you off. I know we're running low on food, and I promise we'll take off soon. I just can't shake the feeling that I took it too far. I know they needed to die, for what they did to Bob, to all of those other people, but with what we've done to survive… sometimes I think we're no better than them. I can see their faces when I close my eyes." He rubbed his palms against his eyelids, trying to shake the images from his brain. "What we did to them after we took their weapons… I can see every bit of blood, every crushed skull, every severed limb. We _mutilated_ those people while the others watched. How am I supposed to look my children in the face after what we did?"

All Rick received in response was silence. "Abraham?" he called, turning around.

It wasn't Abraham that stood behind him, but Carl, tears streaking his cheeks.


	14. Chapter 14

Much like Rick, Tilly and Daryl were unable to get any sleep after they returned. They sat together in the church office. He swiveled slowly from side-to-side in the black, padded chair behind the desk while she sat perched on top of a small cabinet, her feet dangling above the ground.

"Do you think what we did was right?" Tilly asked, staring at the droplets of blood spattered on her jeans.

He shrugged as he spun one of his arrows between his fingers. "I don't know," he answered. "Not like they didn't deserve it, though."

"I know, I'm just having a hard time processing the things we… I did last night." She tugged at a piece of her hair, wrapping it around her finger. "I _enjoyed_ it, Daryl," she admitted. "When I heard all of the things they had done, I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands. And then, I did. It was the most satisfying thing I've ever done, and that terrifies me."

Daryl looked up at her. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and she wiggled a dangling foot nervously.

"Am I a monster?" she questioned, looking him in the eye. "I mean, a _good_ person would never even dream of doing… _that._" She couldn't bring herself to repeat the things they had done to the hunters out loud. Images flashed in her mind of their terrified faces, pleading for mercy as they watched their friends tortured, one by one. She began to sob, covering her face with her hands in a vain attempt to hide it from Daryl.

"God, Tilly, no," Daryl answered as he got up and walked over to her. Though he felt comfortable around the woman, he was still clueless as how to go about comforting her. Until then, she'd always managed to put on a brave face, so he knew it must have really bothered her.

"Come here," he ordered. She looked down at him from the cabinet, her face red and cheeks wet. He reached his hands out and put them under her arms to lift her down in front of him. "Ain't nothing wrong with you, Matilda," he whispered, brushing the hair from her face. "We don't have to like what we did. But we ain't wrong for doing it."

Tilly sniffed and wiped her eyes with her hand. "You don't regret it?"

He shook his head. "I'm not saying it doesn't bother me, but I'll never regret doing something to protect the group."

Tilly managed a small smile, grateful for his reassurance. "I guess if the worst thing I ever do is torture a group of child-eating cannibals I'm doing ok."

Daryl chuckled a little and pulled her into a hug. "Yeah," he nodded, "you're doing ok."

They stood there for a long moment, pressed against one another.

Daryl felt a little uncomfortable seeing her in that vulnerable state. Even though she tried to make light of the situation, he could still see the pain in her eyes.

"I'm sorry to get all weepy and dramatic," she apologized, breaking their contact. "I said it myself, if you let things get to you you'll end up getting yourself killed."

"No," he said, his brow furrowing, "don't apologize. Ain't like this is a little thing, and it _just_ happened. It happens to us all at some point. Messed me up when I had to put Merle down." He blinked his eyes hard, trying to push that memory back out of his head. Few things got to him anymore, but losing Merle, no matter how much of an asshole he was, broke his heart.

"What was your brother like?" Tilly asked. He had mentioned his brother, and that he died, but she didn't know anything else about him.

"You wouldn't have liked him," he answered. "No one did. Hell, _I_ didn't like him most of the time, but he was all I had. He went missing for a while during a run into Atlanta. Rick cuffed him to a roof 'cause he attacked another guy in the group. He got left behind. We went back for him, but he'd cut his own hand off and disappeared."

Tilly's hand flew to her mouth to cover her shocked expression. "He cut off his hand?"

Daryl nodded. "Tough son-of-a-bitch. We came across him a few months later. He was living in Woodbury, working for the Governor."

"The guy who attacked the prison?" she asked.

"That's the one. It's a long story, but Merle chose me over him. He tried to kill that asshole, but he got Merle first. I found him, and put him down." His voice shook a little as he said the last part, but his face remained expressionless.

"God, Daryl, I'm sorry," she reached up to touch his cheek. He flinched a little at her touch, an old habit, but momentarily returned the gesture, stroking his thumb over her cheek bone.

"He died trying to do something good for once in his life. That counts for something, I guess," he replied.

Tilly smiled, "He wasn't really _all_ you had, you know. These people really seem to care about you, value you. You have all of them."

"I know that now," he said.

"You have me too, ya know," she whispered, her eyes suddenly becoming more intense as she looked up at him through her lashes. "If you want me, that is."

Daryl's heart pounded in his chest as he nodded. "I do."

Tilly wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed herself to him, her other hand tangling in his hair and pulling his mouth to hers. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her, maybe it was the events of last night, but she needed him terribly in that moment.

He matched her urgency, gripping the sides of her shirt and pressing her against the cabinet. The hard wood bore into her back, but she didn't care. He allowed his hands to roam, caressing her sides, and then running them down the side of her thighs.

Tilly pressed her hand firmly onto his chest, running it slowly down his stomach and letting it rest at the waist band of his jeans. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt her fingers graze the sensitive skin right above the button. Her fingers found the buckle of his belt and began to pull at the dark leather.

"Hey!" Tyreese called, banging on the door. "Rick wants to talk to all of us."

Tilly let out a deep sigh, unwillingly pulling her hand away from his belt. "Goddamn it," she whispered.

She looked at Daryl and saw his chest heaving, his eyes were closed he stood with one hand on her waist and the other bracing himself against the cabinet.

"You alright?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

She smiled as he worked to calm himself down and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

He stepped back a bit, allowing her the space to move away from him and make her way into the sanctuary. He hung back in the office for a moment, gathering himself. He silently chastised himself for getting all worked up over a woman, though he had to admit he enjoyed the time he spent with her. Most of his life he'd found girls to be more trouble than they were worth. It was different with Tilly, though. She didn't need him to take care of her. She was remarkably capable and didn't cling to him the way other women he'd been involved with had. She was the kind of woman who he could fight along-side, and he respected her. _But, god, does she drive me crazy._

In the sanctuary, the others talked amongst themselves as they waited for everyone to assemble. Sasha sat next to Tyreese, who had his arm draped around his sister's shoulders. He leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head as she stared at the floor.

Lana and Tara sat next to each other, both turned around backwards, talking to Maggie and Glenn who sat behind them.

"Hey," Tilly greeted as she took a seat next to Glenn, "good to see you're alright."

"Hurts like a bitch, but Eugene says I should be healed up in a few weeks," he replied.

"He a doctor now, too?" Tilly asked, smiling.

"Who the hell knows what he is," Lana laughed.

Glenn shook his head, "I don't know, he just came in and rubbed some kind of gunk made out of tea leaves and candle wax on it and told us to wrap it up."

"Voodoo witch doctor, maybe?" Tara injected, making the rest of them laugh.

Daryl walked into the room, nodding at Tilly and then taking a seat next to Carol.

"Good," Rick began, "we're all here."

Tilly looked behind her and saw that Father Gabriel sat by himself a few rows back, not looking at Rick.

"I've spoken to Abraham and decided we will leave tomorrow, keep heading toward DC. Today, we'll take a group out to find supplies and hopefully another vehicle. We could all fit on the church bus, but we'll need a backup. "

His hand rested unconsciously on the handle of his gun as he addressed the group, and Tilly noticed a hint of sadness in his eyes. _Maybe he has regrets about last night, too,_ she thought.

"I'll take Maggie, Tyreese, Lana and Michonne with me. Father Gabriel says there's a food bank and pharmacy in town we can check out," he continued.

"Dad," Carl spoke up from the front pew, "I want to come with you."

Rick thought for a moment before nodding. "Alright, son."

"Tilly and I can go hunt," Daryl offered, slinging his crossbow onto its normal spot on his shoulder.

"Ok," Rick agreed. "Abraham, would you mind helping Sasha dig a grave for Bob? Gabriel offered him a spot in the church's cemetery."

"No problem," Abraham answered.

"Tara, you're in charge of Judith. I want the rest of you to gather anything useful from around the church. Stay close and make sure someone stays on watch. We leave in 15."

Rick turned and approached Carl as the rest of them broke off to their respective jobs.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Rick asked, laying his hand on his son's shoulder.

Carl nodded, and Rick took a seat next to him. "About this morning," he began.

"Don't," Carl interrupted. "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I was upset because you were. Dad, you have to stop doubting yourself. You did what needed to be done. They got what they deserved."

It unnerved Rick how quickly Carl defended his assault on the hunters. "They did deserve it, you're right about that," he responded. "But _we_ don't need to do those things. We kill when we have to, but we can't let it get out of hand."

"You were a cop, Dad. It was your job to make sure justice was served. You'd never have done what you did if it wasn't just," Carl said, his face serious.

Rick didn't know how to respond. His son was right. While he had done some terrible things, they were never without reason. He leaned over and kissed Carl on the head. "You're a smart kid, ya know that?"

Carl smiled back at him in response, and the two of them began getting ready to head into town.

"We'll head off east," Daryl decided as he and Tilly stood in the church yard. "Woods are heavier that way."

"Whatever you say," Tilly agreed, sticking her pistol in the front of her jeans. Over her shoulder she had a quiver of arrows and bow she found at the Termite's camp.

"You know how to use that thing?" Daryl asked, nodding toward the large bow.

Tilly rolled her eyes. "Why are you always so skeptical of my weapon abilities?"

"Never seen you use one before s'all," he shrugged.

"That's because I never have," she laughed, punching him in the shoulder. "Good a time as any to learn, I figure. C'mon, let's go."

Once they were in the woods, Daryl offered to give her a quick lesson with the bow. He showed her the proper stance and where to position her hands, then he took his knife and carved an 'X' in a tree several feet in front of her.

"Let's see what ya got," he challenged.

Tilly took a deep breath and positioned herself as he had showed her. She raised the bow and pulled back the string, then let the arrow fly toward the tree. It whizzed past it and clunked against a large rock.

"Nice one, Robin Hood," he smirked, and she felt herself blush.

"Shut up, dude," she answered. "I bet you weren't an ace right off the bat either."

Daryl shook his head and chuckled. "Nah, damn near hit Merle in the leg first time I tried. I ain't gonna kick your ass like he did mine, though, so don't worry."

"Like you could anyway," she teased, repositioning herself and readying another arrow.

He studied her face as she pulled the arrow back, focusing on her target. He noticed how her eyebrows furrowed and she bit her tongue as she aimed.

"Just relax," he advised. "Don't think about it. Just point and let it fly."

Tilly released the breath she was holding and let go of the string. The arrow stuck with a dull _thud_ into the bark of the tree, about a foot above the arrow. "At least I hit the tree that time," she smiled.

Daryl nodded, enjoying the excitement on her face. "Yeah, you'll get there. C'mon, let's see if we can't find something alive for you to shoot."

As they wandered between the trees in search of prey, Daryl took the lead as usual, managing to get three squirrels. He allowed Tilly to take a shot at a rabbit, but she was no match for the moving target and her arrow stuck unceremoniously in the dirt.

That afternoon, they stopped by a creek to get some water and rest. Tilly wanted nothing more than to jump into the water and clean herself but the cooler temperature, and current company, helped her resist the urge.

"What do you miss most about before?" Tilly asked as she splashed a bit of water on her face and ran it through her hair.

"Not a damn thing," he answered. "Aside from the people walkin' around trying to eat me, this really ain't that different."

Tilly pursed her lips, unsure of how to respond. She felt for the man, for the hard life he had lived.

Daryl noticed she was uncomfortable. "Alright," he smirked, "I do miss pizza." He was beginning to pick up Tilly's habit of using humor to deflect awkward situations. It seemed to go over better than his usual penchant of scowling and walking away.

"Oh fuck, what I wouldn't give for a pizza," Tilly sighed, her mouth watering at the thought.

"What about you?" he asked. "What do you miss most?"

"That's easy," she responded. "I miss bourbon."

Daryl threw back his head and laughed. "Bourbon? That's the last thing I expected you to say. Didn't take you for a drinker."

Tilly rolled her eyes and went to sit down in front of him. "I grew up in Kentucky, Dixon. They'll practically kick ya out of the state if you can't hold your bourbon."

"I hear ya'll make some kick- ass fried chicken, too," he smiled.

"I make _the_ kick-assiest fried chicken you've ever set upon your taste buds," she answered proudly. "We ever get our hands on a real kitchen I'll show ya how it's done."

"I'm gonna hold ya to that," he promised. "We should get back at it." He stood and slung his crossbow onto his back, and Tilly collected her gear as well.

The two of them worked their way down the creek, checking for any game.

"Shh!" Tilly whispered, pointing ahead of them. There stood a large doe, her head turned in their direction, looking Tilly right in the eye. Daryl raised his crossbow and pointed it at the heart of the animal.

Suddenly, there was a rustling of brush to their left. It startled the deer, and it took off as Daryl pulled the trigger. The arrow grazed its back leg, but the deer bounded out of sight.

"Motherfucker," he swore, lowering his weapon. He turned his head toward the noise, ready to murder whatever it was that made him lose his kill. It didn't take him long to recognize the sound of shuffling feet on the leaves.

A pair of walkers approached them. They groaned as they shambled toward them, their arms stretched out in search of flesh. Daryl put a bolt between the eyes of a woman with half of her face missing. Her once-pristine sweater set and khakis were dark and dingy with blood and decay, and her body crunched against the stiff leaves as she hit the ground.

Tilly approached the other corpse and shoved the large man to the ground, landing on top of him. He managed to grab her right hand, the one that held her knife, and she struggled to get it free as he grabbed at her with his other mangled hand.

Daryl saw the struggle and rushed over to help, shoving the bolt he had removed from the female walker into the head of the one under Tilly. The grip of its hand weakened and Tilly shook it off, getting back onto her feet. She nodded at Daryl in gratitude, and then turned to scan the rest of the area.

She froze suddenly, her eyes growing wide and Daryl soon saw what had startled her. A herd of at least two dozen undead were walking toward them, their eyes locked on the pair.

"Too many," he whispered, grabbing her arm. "We gotta go."


	15. Chapter 15

They ran as quickly as the terrain allowed, trying to find a place to hide until the herd passed. The ground was thick with leaves and limbs, and Tilly couldn't help but feel like she was back in high school running hurdles as she leapt over the debris.  
As she cleared a particularly large log, she heard a bang beside her.  
"Fuck!" Daryl yelled from the ground, holding his ankle. She stopped and rushed back to his side, but he waved her off. "Go on! I'll catch up."  
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Daryl Dixon," she accosted as she bent down to place his arm over her shoulder. "Get up, we gotta go."  
With her assistance, he got to his feet and the two of them continued hobbling through the woods. As they crested a hill, they were greeted by a small cabin, the yard grown up with weeds.  
"There!" Tilly pointed. "It'll be dark soon and you're in no shape to make a run back to the church. We'll wait them out here."  
Daryl grunted in agreement and she led him to the house, the geeks out of sight for the they were inside, Daryl hopped to a nearby chair as Tilly quickly locked the door and pushed a couch in front of it before taking a seat herself.  
"You alright?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.  
Daryl was busy rubbing his ankle. "Hurts like a som'bitch but I just twisted it, ain't broke. I'll be fine."  
"Let me see," Tilly ordered, walking over to him and taking a seat on the floor by his feet.  
"Nothin' _to_ see," he insisted, but she had already lifted his foot into her lap and was unlacing his boot. He leaned back in the chair in defeat and allowed her to examine it.  
Tilly gently tugged off his boot and rolled his sock down below his ankle. The skin was a little swollen, but there was no bruising to be seen.  
"I don't even think it's sprained," she explained, "but you should still stay off of it for a while. Seems like we're stuck here for the night anyway. I'll see if I can find something to wrap it."  
"Don't worry about wrap-"  
"Stop it," she interrupted. "We don't want you to hurt it worse once we get moving again. I'm not packing your ass all the way back to camp."  
"Whatever," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.  
Tilly shook her head as she went to explore the rest of the cabin. The place was too small for someone to live in full-time, and from the taxidermied animals on the walls she decided it was most likely a hunting cabin.  
Daryl found it hard to sit still while he waited for her to return. The livingroom where he sat was connected to a small kitchen, and he rose to go see what he could find in the cabinets. Hobbling as well as he could on his aching, bootless foot he made his way into the dark area, pulling out his lighter to ignite a candle that sat on the small table. The sun was getting lower, and the small windows scattered around the cabin didn't let in much light.  
He picked up the candle and raised it to each of the cabinets as he opened them. They were mostly bare, but he found a couple of cans of ravioli, a deck of cards and an unopened bag of barbecue chips. He set them on the table and bent to open the cabinet under the small sink. In the back corner he could make out the outline of a large bottle. As he wrapped his hand around the glass bottle and pulled it into the light he smiled at the dark liquid inside.  
"What are you doing up?" He spun around to face the redhead, who stood in the doorway holding a roll of bandage in one hand, the other hand shoved in her pocket.  
He stood and motioned toward the table. "Found us some food," he answered. "Found this, too." He smirked as he held up the half-full bottle of whiskey for her to see. "I'm gonna call your bluff on being able to hold your drink."  
A smile washed across Tilly's face as she slowly pulled her hand from her pocket, holding it out to him. "And I found something besides a bandage that might make your ankle feel a little better." In her palm sat a small plastic baggie. Daryl laughed as she passed it to him and he examined the dark green buds inside.  
"Looks like we got us a party," he said. "Better make sure this place is secure before we let our guard down, though."  
Tilly nodded and tossed him the bandage. "Wrap your ankle. I'll make sure we're all locked up."

Once she was sure all of the windows were locked, Tilly shoved a heavy shelf in front of the back door and went to rejoin the hunter. He had replaced his boot over his bandaged ankle and was sitting at the table with two glasses and a couple of forks. He shuffled the deck of cards and looked at her as she sat down across from him.  
"You play poker?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
Tilly nodded as she grabbed the plastic bag and began breaking up the herb and placing it gently in the small glass pipe she had found. "What're the stakes?" she questioned. "We don't exactly have money to wager, and it's too damn cold in here to play strip poker." She laughed as he rolled his eyes.  
"Loser of each hand drinks," he decided.  
"Works for me," she agreed.  
They passed the pipe back and forth as they played, occasionally pausing for one of them to take a swig from the bottle when they lost a hand.  
"You're pretty good at this, ya know?" Daryl remarked.  
Tilly grinned at him, her buzz making her smile a little bigger than normal. "The drinking or the poker?"  
"We've been pretty evenly matched on both accounts so far. Guess ya ain't full of shit afterall."  
She raised an eyebrow at him. "How come you're always doubting me, Daryl? Always making me prove everything I tell you about myself."  
Daryl shook his head, trying to break through the haze of the drink and smoke so he could explain himself. "It's not like that, Tilly. Ain't that I think you're a liar, I've just never really met another girl like you."  
"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, setting her cards on the table.  
"No, it's not. You're just really fucking cool. I haven't had a lot of interaction with women that weren't bar skanks or dope heads."  
Tilly smirked as the raised the pipe in her hand.  
"You know what I mean," he said. "Smokin' some pot in the apocalypse is a whole lot different than blowing guys for meth."  
"So, you rolled with a rough crowd, I guess?" she asked.  
He nodded. "Merle sold the stuff, well, what he didn't use anyway. Whenever I stayed with him there was a neverending stream of junkies coming in and out. There were plenty of men, don't get me wrong, but I think Merle enjoyed the power he had over the women. They'd do whatever he wanted to get their fix. Didn't exactly give me the best impression of you guys."  
"You guys?" Tilly laughed. "You can't tell me you've never found a woman you were even a little interested in?"  
"Some of them were good-lookin', I guess. The ones who weren't too strung out yet. Never had any interest in that type, though, and no decent woman ever wasted her time talking to me."  
"Things aren't like that anymore," Tilly explained. "There is no social hierarchy. There are the strong, and there are the weak. You happen to fall into the upper class in this world."  
Daryl averted his eyes as she spoke. He had become more confident since he had been away from Merle, but it was still difficult for him to take a compliment.  
Tilly grabbed the bottle and took a long gulp before handing it to him. "I mean it, Daryl. You're here, alive, and all of those people who looked down on you are either dead or geeks. Seems to me you're the one who was too good for them."  
He wasn't sure what to say. He looked up into her dark blue eyes and could see the sincerity behind them. He knew she wouldn't say anything she didn't mean.  
"So what I'm really trying to say," she continued with a smile, "is fuck those chicks."  
"I'll drink to that," he said, raising the bottle to his lips, coughing a little as the stout liquor slid down his throat. His body finally felt warm, even though the air in the cabin was chilled, and he felt himself loosening up a bit more. "You have a man before all this?" he asked.  
"I did," Tilly answered. She ran her palm over her forehead as she recalled him. "We hadn't been together long before the outbreak and we were in different towns when Lana, Joe and I decided to take off."  
"You didn't find him?" he asked curiously.  
Tilly shook her head. "To be honest, I didn't even look. He was a good guy, don't get me wrong, but I didn't love him. I _did_ love Lana and her brother, and I wasn't going to risk their lives to find him."  
Daryl blamed the whiskey for his sudden interest in her love life, but he couldn't help his curiosity. "Do you miss him?"  
She hesitated, looking down at the table and fiddling with a playing card. "No," she answered. "I feel bad about it, but I haven't even thought of him in a very long time. That's terrible, I know."  
"Nah," he shook his head and grabbed her hand, "just means you know where your priorities lie. Nothing wrong with that."  
Tilly looked up into his eyes, her head swimmy from the alcohol. She just stared at him for a moment, taking in his intense eyes and strong features. He was the most rugged, handsome man she'd ever seen, and for a moment she felt happy. She forgot about the chaos all around her and allowed herself to get lost in the moment.  
"I don't want you to think I have expectations about this," she said softly after a moment.  
"What are you talking about?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face.  
She cleared her throat, bringing herself back to reality. "I mean, I understand how things work in this world. I know people don't fall in love and run off into the sunset together anymore. They don't get boyfriends and weddings and families. I want you to know that I don't care about that stuff. I feel connected to you, Daryl, whatever that means. I think I was meant to meet you, and no matter how you feel about me, about _this,_ I'm just glad to have you here."  
Daryl hadn't really taken the time to think about their evolving relationship. He had never been one for labels, and he was glad to hear Tilly say that wasn't important to her either.  
"I feel the same way," he finally replied. "You're important to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you around." He was surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth. He had never been one to share his feelings, but the look on Tilly's face told him he had no reason to regret saying it.  
The candlelight cast a flattering glow across her features. Her eyes sparkled and the soft, red curls framing her face glowed like fire themselves.  
"We're done playing cards now, aren't we?" Tilly whispered, as she watched him staring intensely at her.  
Daryl nodded, and stood, pulling her out of her chair and against him. He stood only a couple of inches taller than her, so they were nearly eye-to-eye. He smiled as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I'm really glad I found you,"he whispered against her hair.  
A wave of joy swept through Tilly as the words escaped his lips. "Are you ready to go to bed?" she asked, giving him the same look she had given him in the church office that morning.  
Before she knew it, she felt her feet leaving the ground, her body cradled in his strong arms. "Your ankle," she protested, afraid to injure him further.  
"What ankle?" he smiled, taking a step toward the bedroom. A groan involuntarily escaped as he stepped onto his injured foot. Tilly noticed and began to wriggled out of his grasp, placing her feet back on the floor.  
"See?" she laughed. "C'mon." She turned her back to him, motioning for him to hop on.  
"You've gotta be shittin' me," he said, rolling his eyes. "A piggy back ride? You want to break your back?"  
Tilly gave him a stern look. "Stop telling me what I'm capable of, Daryl Dixon. Hop on."  
"If you say so," he shrugged and placed his arms around her neck. She crouched down a bit, wrapping her hands behind his knees and lifting him off the ground.  
"I suppose it's my turn to sweep you off of your feet," she joked, and the two of them laughed as she packed him into the bedroom. When they reached the edge of the bed, she turned her back to it, letting him flop back onto the mattress.  
"Well," she said, clapping her hands together, "my work here is done."  
"No it ain't," he growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her down on top of him.  
His breath was heavy as he trailed his mouth across her collar bone and up her neck, finally bringing his lips to hers. She parted them and allowed his warm tongue to slide into her mouth. She kissed him deeply for a moment before she was unable to contain herself any longer. She sat up, still straddling him and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, her fingers clumsy from the alcohol.  
When she finally freed the last button, she turned around to quickly kick of her boots, him doing the same before grabbing her and flipping her back onto the mattress.  
"I guess you prefer to be in charge then?" she teased as she slid his open shirt off of his shoulders, pulling it free and tossing it to the floor. He smirked at her as he nodded, and grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt. She raised her arms above her head as he yanked it off of her and threw it to the side.  
"Keep those up there," he ordered playfully, pinning her arms above her head with his hand. His free hand trailed slowly down her arm and onto her chest, sending a shiver through her body. The sounds of her soft moans excited him, and he released her hands momentarily as he reached around her. She arched her back a bit to allow him better access to the clasp, and in a moment her bra had joined the quickly growing pile of clothing on the floor.  
He paused for a moment as he looked down at her soft, pale skin glistening in the moonlight that slipped through the window. Tilly brought her hands down and tugged at his belt, but he grabbed her hands and clicked his tongue.  
"Not yet," he smiled, placing her hands back above her head. "I'm not done."  
She was surprised at how quickly his awkwardness had gone out the window. He wasn't acting like his normal, cautious self. He was allowing himself to give into his desires, his need to feel closer to her.

Tilly awoke just before dawn to the sound of birds chirping outside of the window. She could feel Daryl's arm draped over her waist, and she rubbed her eyes and yawned before turning to face him.  
"Morning," he greeted, already awake.  
"Hey there," she smiled. "How long you been awake?"  
"Not long, and I'm not exactly in a hurry to ditch the only real bed I'll have for a while."  
"I know what you mean," she laughed. "We should probably get going soon, though. We're heading out today. Don't wanna get left behind."  
"They won't leave us," he replied, "but yeah, we should get going."  
They gathered their clothes and quickly got dressed before gathering their things. Tilly poured the small amount of remaining whiskey into a water bottle and stuffed it, along with the baggie and pipe into her pack, just in case they ever had the chance to relax again.  
They took the road back to the church, the herd seemingly long past. They only encountered a few lone walkers along the way. Despite a very subtle limp, Daryl's ankle seemed fine and he managed to add two more squirrels and a rabbit to his collection before they reached the church mid-morning.  
Another van sat out front in addition to the church bus, but it appeared the others hadn't started loading them yet, which seemed odd to Tilly.  
"I have a weird feeling, Daryl," she explained, pausing in the parking lot.  
"Everything's fine," he assured her, walking ahead. "Come on, I'm sure they're just waiting for us."  
As they opened the large wooden doors and stepped inside, every eye turned to Tilly. She sensed their sadness and her stomach dropped as she scanned the room, taking count of everyone there. It appeared the group Rick had taken out had returned from their run, a stack of supplies they found piled next to the door.  
Rick stepped forward, holding his hand out to her. "Tilly-"  
Suddenly, Tilly felt like she might vomit. "Where," she choked out, "where's Lana?"  
Rick bowed his head and took a deep breath before looking her in the eye. "Tilly, there was an accident."  
Tears burned behind her eyes and she shook her head. "Where is she, Rick? Is she in the back?" She ran past Rick, toward the Sunday school rooms, but Michonne caught her by the arm.  
"I'm sorry," the woman said sadly, "but she's dead."  
She felt her knees weaken as a wave of nausea swept over her again. Her legs buckled, but Abraham caught her around the waist before she could hit the floor and guided her over to a pew.  
"H-How?" she croaked. "What happened?"  
Rick knelt down in front of her and placed a hand on her knee. "It happened in the food bank. There was a group of walkers in there and we thought we could take them. We did, but Lana got pinned in a corner and we- I couldn't get to her in time."  
"You just left her there?" Tilly asked, rage in her voice. "You let her get eaten?"  
"We got her out of there as quickly as we could, but she was bit," Michonne answered. "She ended it herself. Went out on her own terms."  
Tilly couldn't move, couldn't think. She was completely unable to process what was happening.  
"She asked me to give you this." Rick gently opened her hand and placed a piece of paper in her palm. "We're all going to start loading the cars. Take all the time you need." He gave her knee a small squeeze and nodded for the rest of the group to gather the supplies and clear the sanctuary.  
Tilly stared at the crumbled paper for a long time, flipping it over and over in her hands, terrified of reading it. Terrified of it being real.  
Finally, she took a deep breath and unfolded the paper. Tears rolled down her face as the familiar handwriting sprawled in front of her.

_Matilda,_  
_If you're reading this, well, you know._  
_Tilly, you know as well as I do, at least I hope you do, that you're going to make it in this world, with or without me. You've been by my side forever, and I've witnessed your strength first-hand. I can't imagine how hard this is for you, I know how impossible it would be for me if I were to lose you. You're going to survive, though. You're going to make it to the end of this, Tilly. You're going to make a new life. You're going to make new friends. Please, please don't let this break you._  
_I love you more than I could possibly explain. You're my right-hand woman, my ride-or-die. I never would have made it as far as I did in this world without you. You're the strongest, most amazing person I've ever met and I could never thank you enough for all the times you've saved me, even before the world went to Hell. You're my hero, Tilly. You're going to be ok. Better than ok, even. You're going to be happy again, I just know it._  
_Please, Tills, be strong. Live, for me._  
_I love you forever and beyond,_  
_Lana_


	16. Chapter 16

Daryl sat on the soft, overgrown grass next to the pile of fresh dirt covering Bob's body, fastening two pieces of wood into a cross using a small piece of vine. When they were secure, he pulled out his knife and began to carve into the wood: _LANA. _Then he slid the knife back into his belt and shoved the bottom of the cross into the ground next to Bob's grave. They hadn't brought her body back, but he knew Tilly would want her to have a memorial.

As much as the girl could annoy him he had grown fond of Lana as well, and his heart ached as he thought of Tilly losing her. He knew exactly how it felt to lose your last connection to the world as it was. Standing, he glanced over his shoulder at the others who were loading supplies. They seemed to have it under control, so he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and walked back toward the church.

As he entered, he saw Tilly sitting at the piano at the front of the sanctuary. She played softly, her eyes closed as she ran her fingers over the keys. He walked slowly toward her, and sat down on the floor next to the piano bench, resting his hand on her back.

Though her eyes were still closed, she knew it was him. The moment he touched her she was thrust back into reality. She continued to play, but the tears she had managed to stop began to flow freely again. Her body shook as she struggled to contain her sobs. When she played the final chord of her song, she bent forward, resting her head against the instrument and tried to regain her composure.

It was no use, though. She was broken. The guilt that she had been off having a grand ole time in the cabin with Daryl while her best friend was dying was more than she could reconcile.

The others had begun to trickle back in, finished with their packing. When Tilly heard them, she looked up and saw they had all gathered around her. Carol took a seat next to her on the bench and pulled her into her arms.

"Nothing we can say is going to make it better," Carol began, "but we're here. The pain will never go away, I know that too well, but you're not alone. No matter what, you'll never be alone."

Tilly returned her embrace and allowed herself to sob into the woman's shoulder. Normally she would have been embarrassed to show the group such weakness, but in that moment she didn't care.

"I just don't know what to do now," she whispered against Carol's shirt.

Carol pulled back a bit to face her, grabbing a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping the girl's face. "You fight," she answered. "That's what we all have to do. You stay alive. That's how you honor her."

Tilly nodded as she sniffed back her tears, letting the woman's words sink in. "Ok," she choked, standing from the bench.

As they made their way toward the vehicles, she received a few hugs and words of encouragement from the other members of the group. Sasha held onto her longer than the others as they embraced, her grief fresh as well. It didn't do anything to lessen her pain, but Tilly felt a little stronger knowing they were all behind her.

She took a seat in the church bus along with Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, Tara, Daryl, Maggie and Glenn, the others piling into the large van. She leaned her head against the window and stared silently as they pulled away from the church.

For the most part, the survivors drove in silence, a sense of sadness still lingering around them from the losses they had just suffered. After several hours, it was Glenn who finally broke the silence.

Using the seats the brace himself, he approached the front of the bus and sat down behind Abraham, who was driving. "So," he began, "how did you guys meet each other?" He gestured toward the other two members of Abraham's group.

The sergeant continued staring straight ahead as he answered. "We were all part of a larger group near Houston. Short story is that we got overrun. We were all that was left at the end and Eugene told us he knew how to stop this mess. That was a few weeks ago, and we've been headed toward DC ever since."

Glenn then turned toward Eugene. "So, assuming we make it there, how long is it going to take you to fix all of this?"

"That's classified," Eugene recited.

"I thought we were past this," Maggie responded, rolling her eyes. "What harm would it do for us to know?"

Eugene hesitated before finally answering. "Well, the time it takes to resolve this depends on a lot of factors." As he continued to rattle off scientific jargon, Tilly zoned out, having no patience for his obvious attempt as dodging the question.

"Alright," Glenn said after he finally shut up, "but why the hair?"

"Because I like it," Eugene answered dryly.

Even Tilly chuckled a little at that.

"Ah, shit!" Abraham yelled from the driver seat as he slammed on the breaks, jolting them all forward. They stood to look out of the front windshield, curious as to what had made him stop. About half a mile in front of them marched the biggest herd they had encountered yet.

There was a knock at the bus door and Abraham pressed a button to open it so Rick could step inside.

"You have an alternate route mapped out, right?" Rick asked, reaching for the map that laid on the dashboard.

Abraham shook his head, "We don't have the gas, and we're making too good of time going this way. I say we push through."

"You really think that's a good idea?" Rick asked, stroking his chin.

"The vehicles are big enough," the sergeant replied, "high off the ground. We should be able to plow over them."

"This fails it's on you," Rick said, pointing his finger at the larger man before leaving to return to the van.

"I don't know about this, Abraham," Eugene added. "Get enough of those bodies piled up under the tires and we'll lose traction."

"Shut up, Eugene," Abraham spat before he slammed on the gas.

Daryl walked from the back of the bus to sit beside Tilly as they sped toward the herd, Rick and crew following behind.

"This isn't going to work," Tilly whispered, not wanting to scare the others.

Daryl shook his head. "We get stuck, you run toward the woods. Only worry about killing the ones in your way."

They were all jerked forward violently as the bus hit the first of the walkers. Though the vehicle decelerated significantly, they continued forward.

Time seemed to slow down as they rolled through the herd. The smell of rotted flesh crept through the cracks in the windows and made Tilly's stomach turn. She pulled the collar of her shirt over her nose and saw the others doing the same.

"Just when you think you've gotten used to that smell-" Glenn began.

"RICK!" Maggie shrieked, and they all turned to see that Rick's van was stuck on a pile of corpses, the tires spinning helplessly in the air.

"We have to keep going!" Abraham yelled back at her. "We go back for them we're all dead!"

The bus erupted in a flurry of screaming, everyone but Abraham believing they should go back to help the others who still were not far behind them.

Daryl got up and sprinted to the back of the van, pulling on the handle to the emergency door. "Come on!" he yelled to the others. "I'm goin' back with or without this asshol-"

He was cut short as the bus jerked violently to the side, throwing him off of his feet. Now it was their vehicle that was stuck, and it began to tilt to one side, threatening to fall over.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Abraham screamed as the bus jolted one last time and landed on it's side, the survivors being tossed along with it.

"We gotta go!" Daryl yelled again as he jumped up and popped the back door open. The others carefully got to their feet and climbed across the seats to the door, piling out one by one.

Abraham shrugged off his seat belt and helped Maggie get the injured Glenn to the door, then hoisted him over his shoulder as they exited.

Gunfire erupted as they shot in all directions, clearing a path for Rick's group to escape from the van.

"Run!" Rick yelled. "That way!" He pointed toward the woods and they began battling their way through.

Tilly shoved a roamer out of the way, then another before aiming her gun and shooting a round into the head of one to her left.

"Help!" She heard Carl's voice behind her and turned to see he was surrounded by a group of five or six walkers. Without hesitation she ran to him, shoving her way through the disgusting hands that reached hungrily toward her. She shoved her knife into the skull of one directly in front of him and Carl spun to shoot one in the forehead. She bashed in the skull of another with the handle of her gun, trying to conserve as much ammo as possible before grabbing the boy's arm.

"Come on!" she yelled, dragging him along behind her. Carl was stunned, but managed to keep up with her as they ran. They could see a few members of the group ahead, but in the moment Tilly was more concerned with getting Carl to safety than reuniting with the group.

As they neared the woods, Tilly jumped as she heard a gunshot ring out from right behind her. She spun around and was face-to-face with a middle-aged black man, his eyes wild. "Go!" He yelled, and she knew there was no time to ask questions so she did as the stranger said.

Once they were in the forest the walkers became more sporadic. The majority of the herd had stuck to the road, but there were still a number of them following, attracted by the yelling and gunshots. Ahead of her, she could make out the outlines of several of her friends and she smiled as her eyes finally spotted the familiar angel wings Daryl wore on the back of his vest.

Several minutes later, the strange man still following behind them, the walkers were out of sight. They rushed over the crest of a hill and nearly ran right into the rest of the group, who were waiting at the top.

Tilly fell to her knees in exhaustion and relief, letting go of Carl's hand as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Dad!" Carl ran into the arms of his father, and while Rick was elated to see he was safe, his eyes were focused on the stranger.

"M-Morgan?" Rick gasped.

"You know him?" Tilly asked, looking back and forth between them and seeing the look of familiarity in their faces.

Rick let go of Carl and approached the man. "Morgan?" he repeated. "How? I mean, I thought you-"

"It's me," Morgan confirmed. "I've been following you for a while now, seemed I was always a step behind you. I thought I had lost ya, but then I saw the walkers, heard the screams. I didn't know if it was you, but I hoped."

Rick was unsure of how to approach Morgan. When he had seen him last he was held up in a building surrounded by walker traps, crazy from the loss of his son Duane. He tried to talk him into coming back with him to the prison but he had refused.

"I changed my mind," Morgan said, "about coming with you. I went to the prison, but it was empty, walls all blown to pieces. Then I found the tracks, the signs for sanctuary. When I got there and saw it was gone, too, I found one of the signs all crossed out. Somehow, I knew it was you. Been tracking you ever since."

Most of the group looked on in confusion, unsure of how the two of them knew each other.

"This is Morgan," Carl stepped forward to explain. "He saved my dad when he woke up from his coma. He's the reason he was able to find us."

"Glad to see you've finally come to your senses," Michonne smirked. "Thought you were too far gone when we found you."

"I was," Morgan nodded. "I was in a dark, dark place. It took a while, but seeing you guys, seeing Rick again after going so long without seeing a familiar face, it made me realize I didn't really want to be alone. It's not like I had anything else to lose by taking off."

"I'm glad you're here," Rick smiled, stepping forward to embrace the man.

Morgan looked uncomfortable, and Tilly wondered how long it had been since he had felt human contact. After a moment, he seemed to soften a bit and returned the embrace.

The leader turned back to address the group. "It looks like we're all accounted for. Anyone bit? Scratched? Injured?"

A chorus of "no" echoed across the survivors and Rick nodded in approval. "Good, we need to keep moving. We might have put some space between us, but I'm sure that herd is still following us. We'll find a building to use as camp for the night and work out a plan to find new transportation in the morning."

Tilly stood and walked over to Daryl, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him against her side. "Glad you're ok," she said softly.

He placed his arm over her shoulder as she leaned into him. "You, too. I thought I'd lost ya back there. You went running in the opposite direction."

"It was Carl," she explained. "He was surrounded. I wasn't going to leave him."

Daryl nodded as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He'd been worried when he turned around and saw her running full speed into the herd, but she had done the right thing. Had he heard the kid he would have gone back for him, too.

The group gathered their things and trudged onward.

Just before dark, a neighborhood finally came into sight. Rick chose a house and a few of them cleared it before they all barricaded themselves inside. As they got settled, Rick noticed Eugene placing his satellite radio back into his pack.

"How long's it been since you talked to anyone on that thing?" he prodded.

"Uh, a couple of weeks, I guess," Eugene answered.

"I think we should try it now," Rick insisted, stepping toward him. "We're well on our way, only a few days away if we're lucky. We should let them know we're coming. Give it here and I'll do it." Rick reached for Eugene's bag, pulling out the radio.

"Rick, stop!" Eugene yelled, lunging for him and attempting to pry it from his hands as the rest of the group watched in stunned silence.

"Eugene! Stop it! What are you doing?" Rick hissed as they wrestled for the device.

"You're going to break it!" Eugene scolded.

A moment later, there was a loud _bang_ as the radio flew from their hands and bounced across the floor, the battery door flying off. The compartment was empty. Eugene froze.

"Eugene," Rick began, his voice calm but accusatory, "why isn't there a battery in it?"

The scientist hung his head. "It died a couple of weeks ago. I took it out so it wouldn't corrode the radio."

"You didn't tell us?" Rage began to swell behind Rick's voice.

"I didn't want anyone to panic," Eugene defended, but the leader wasn't convinced.

"Eugene, how long has the battery compartment been empty?" Rick got in the man's face and Eugene looked like he might cry as he backed away, holding his hands in front of him.

For once, Abraham didn't jump to his aid. He stood as still as the others, anger boiling inside of him as he began to realize what was really going on.

"Was there _ever_ a battery in it?" Rick asked through gritted teeth, Eugene's back against the wall.

"No," Eugene whimpered. "Never was."

"You son of a bitch!" Abraham yelled, launching himself at the man and knocking him to the ground before kicking him in the gut.

"Stop it!" Rosita yelled as she attempted to pull her boyfriend off of the defeated Eugene. Rick grabbed Abraham's arm and pulled him away.

"You're _not _going to kill him! Got it?" Rick yelled, and Tilly swore she could almost see the smoke coming out of Abraham's ears as he stared down at the man on the floor.

Eugene continued to sob as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. Rick crouched down beside of him and spoke calmly, "Eugene, what were you? Before all of this? You weren't a scientist, were you?"

Eugene shook his head and spoke between his sobs, "High… School… Science… Teacher."


	17. Chapter 17

"What the fuck?" Abraham screamed as he lunged at the man again, but Rick stepped in front of him.

"Abraham, you need to calm down-"

"You don't know what I've been through!" he yelled, shoving Rick backward. "I've traveled across the goddamn country for him! I did _everything_ to keep this sack of shit alive, and for what?" Abraham was so angry that tears streamed down his face as he pushed closer to Eugene, who was still in the fetal position on the floor.

"People _died_ so this asshole could live. Why?" he screamed. "WHY?"

Eugene propped himself up on his elbow and faced the sergeant. "I only did what I had to do," he answered. "I'm not strong. I'm not brave. I damn sure can't get by on my looks. The only things I have going for me are that I'm incredibly intelligent," he paused, "and I'm a good liar. This was my only option." He began to sob again. "I was scared. I was so scared. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Abraham picked up a can of beans from the table next to him and flung it against the wall, barely missing Glenn's head, before storming outside. Rick followed behind him as the rest of the group stood frozen, staring at the dejected man on the floor.

Rick found Abraham sitting on the front porch, his head in his hands. "I led a lot of people to their deaths because of this bullshit _mission_. They're all dead because of me," he confided.

"You'll drive yourself crazy thinking that way," Rick replied.

Abraham shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye. "I put this above everything else. I thought making it to Washington was the most important thing. Christ, I'm stupid."

Rick didn't want to insult the man by attempting to coddle him, so instead he got down to business. "So," Rick began, "what do we do now? Do we still go to Washington?"

"What's the point?" Abraham shrugged.

"We have enough food for now, but our group is large. It won't last long, and there aren't many places to scavenge here that haven't already been picked through. You have to figure the densely populated areas were the first to fall. They're more likely to still have food. We might as well go."

Abraham sat silently as he considered what Rick was saying.

"You never know," Rick continued, "even if Eugene was lying, it's possible there's still a place for us there. There definitely isn't one here anymore."

Abraham nodded. "Alright."

Rick clapped a hand on the man's back before he stood to go in side, allowing Abraham a minute to himself.

As stunned as the others were about what had just transpired in front of them, few of them could say they were actually surprised. When Rick reentered the house, they were all whispering amongst themselves. Eugene had moved over to sit against the wall. He rested his head on his knees, his hands over his ears to avoid hearing what the others were saying about him. He was ashamed of what he had done, and embarrassed he wasn't an actual asset to the group.

"We're still going to Washington," Rick announced as he closed the door behind him. "There's nothing left for us here, so we're going to press on."

"Don't you think it's dangerous to head toward a big city like that?" Glenn asked, daring to question the leader. "You saw what Atlanta was like. DC is even more populated."

"That's exactly _why_ we're going," Rick responded. "If it fell early there should still be supplies for us to scavenge."

"I've always wanted to go to Washington," Maggie admitted, drawing a smile from Rick.

"We won't be doing much sight-seeing," he joked, "but this is your opportunity. Get some sleep, guys. I'll take first watch with Abraham. Tilly, you up for taking second watch with Daryl?"

"Yeah, no problem," she nodded.

"Thank you. Go get some rest. I'll get you up when it's your turn."

With that, the group spread throughout the house, each picking a place to make their bed for the night.

Most of them chose spots on the floor of the spacious living room, but Tilly wanted to be alone. She grabbed a blanket and made her way upstairs. The first room she came to had obviously belonged to a teenage girl. She walked inside and laid the blanket and her pack on the bed before examining the contents of the room.

On the dresser sat a photograph of two girls, both of smiling widely. Their hair was coifed to perfection and they wore long gowns. Tilly thought back to her own senior prom. She and Lana had decided not to waste their time on the idiot boys in their class and instead went as each other's date. They were spared the romantic pressures that generally dominate prom night, and spent the entire time making fools of themselves on the dance floor.

She smiled at the memory, but the pain in her chest was undeniable. She felt a void in her heart, like half of her was missing. She ran her fingers gently over the photograph and wished all of her personal belongings hadn't been left at Terminus. What she wouldn't give to pull out her favorite photo of her and her best friend and be able to see Lana's smiling face once more.

She wiped a rogue tear from her cheek with the back of her hand and went to curl up on the bed, afraid of the dreams she might face once sleep finally came.

_A mist covered the ground as Tilly approached the familiar blue house, the moon her only source of light. She was alone. The cold nipped at her through her thin pajamas and she shivered as she reached the front porch. _

_The boards creaked under her weight as she climbed the stairs and made her way to the front door. The red paint on it was badly chipped and there was only a hole where the doorbell once was. _

_She turned the knob and pushed her weight against the door, forcing it open. _

_"Anyone home?" she called, darkness consuming the interior of the home. "Lana? Mrs. Romero? Joe?" Silence was her only answer._

_As her eyes adjusted, she walked down the narrow hallway, scanning the frames hanging on the walls. They stood empty, the portraits that once sat in them nowhere to be seen. _

_The sound of footsteps echoed from behind her, and as she turned the hallway extended out in front of her, much longer than it had ever been before. A figure stood at the end of it, shrouded in darkness. _

_"Hello?" she called, her voice trembling. "Who's there?"_

_Groaning filled the air as she dared to step closer and the figure stumbled clumsily out of the shadows. _

_She screamed as she recognized her best friend. Her long, dark hair hung limply against her gray face. Her eyes were no longer the deep brown she remembered, but instead a milky white. _

_"No," she squeaked. "No, Lana." She shook her head violently, hoping to erase the image of what stood in front of her. _

_A large wound sprawled across Lana's shoulder and her arms hung loosely at her sides. Her clothes were caked with dark gore, and her mouth snapped violently as she approached. _

_Tilly's hand shook as she reached down to the front of her pants, in search of her gun. She wrapped her fingers around the cool metal and raised the barrel to Lana's face, now only feet from her. Tears cascaded down her face, and she couldn't control her trembling. _

_"I can't," she sighed. She let the gun fall to the floor and bolted for the door. The guttural sounds of her friend still remained close behind her, even once she was outside, so she just kept running. No matter how far she ran, though, Lana was always just a few steps behind her. _

_She picked up her pace as she entered the woods. She couldn't see anything anymore. Darkness surrounded her and she soon found herself slamming into the trunk of a tree, landing with a thud on the ground as she glanced off. _

_"Matilda," she heard through the darkness. "Tilly."_

_"Stop it!" she screamed. "You're not her! You're not Lana!"_

_"Tilly!"_

_"Don't say my name! You're not her! You're a monster!" She covered her ears and rocked back and forth on the ground as she continued to scream. _

"Tilly!" Rick hissed quietly. "Wake up, it's ok."

Tilly's eyes fluttered open, and darted around rapidly, taking note of her surroundings. She wasn't being followed by the shell of her best friend, but she was lying on the ground in the woods, her knee throbbing.

"What?" she whispered as she tried to make sense of it all. "Why am I out here?"

Rick grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. "Have you ever been a sleepwalker, Tilly?" he asked gently.

She shook her head in response.

"Well, we heard you yelling, then you came running outside and just kept going into the woods. You didn't respond when we called out to you. What were you dreaming about?"

She hesitated to answer, afraid to relive her dream. "I was just running from a walker," she answered vaguely.

"You only stopped when you ran into that tree," he explained, pointing to the large oak beside them. "Are you hurt?"

"My knee kind of stings," she answered. "I'm alright, though."

Rick bent down to examine her leg. Her jeans were torn at the knee and blood stained the fabric around the hole. "I think it's just a scrape," he said as he stood and began to lead her back to the house. "It's almost time for your watch anyway, so just hang out by Abraham and I'll go find you a bandage."

She smiled at him gratefully as she took a seat on the porch next to the sergeant.

"You alright?" Abraham asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I guess it's just been a rough day."

"I know what ya mean," he replied.

Rick returned a few minutes later with Daryl, who he'd retrieved for watch, some peroxide and a box of bandaids. He tapped Abraham on the shoulder to let him know he could go inside to sleep, then sat next to Tilly while Daryl leaned against the door frame.

"Put your leg up here," he said, motioning to his lap. She spun toward him and did as he asked. Rick gently pushed her pant leg up above her knee and began to carefully dab the large scrape with peroxide.

"I know you're going through something terrible right now," he spoke as he worked, "but we can't have you taking off like that, making all that commotion. I'd prefer if you stayed near someone else while you slept from now on so they can wake you up if it happens again."

She was a little offended that he implied she needed a babysitter, but at the same time she understood. "I'm sorry, Rick. I'm really embarrassed right now. That's never happened before, I swear."

"I believe you," he responded as he placed the last bandage and pulled her jeans back down. "It's not your fault, but we need to be careful."

She nodded and removed her leg from his lap. He stood to go inside, giving Daryl a pat on the shoulder as he walked past him.

"What was that all about? You ok?" Daryl asked, sitting where Rick had been.

"Bad dream," she answered, her eyes focused on her boots.

"Rick said you took off into the woods. Must have been a _really_ bad dream."

She bit her lip as she nodded, not wanting to elaborate.

"About Lana?" He put his hand on her leg and she turned to look him in the eye.

"Yeah," she confirmed, fighting back the tears that burned her eyelids. "I back to our old house looking for her, but I was too late. She had turned. I couldn't kill her, so I took off, but she followed me." She sniffed and turned her face upward to the sky as she willed herself to keep her composure. "I saw her face. Her eyes. It wasn't her, not anymore."

"She never turned," Daryl said softly. "I know that ain't much of a comfort, but she never had to become one of them."

"I know," she responded. "But it's all so hard to rationalize when I didn't actually see it happen, ya know? She was fine when we left, then she was just _gone_."

"That's what it was like when my mom died," he confided. "She fell asleep smokin' a Virginia Slim, lit the house on fire. By the time I got there everything was burned to the ground, her included. There was no body. She just disappeared."

Tilly took his hand in hers. She appreciated that he was willing to open up to her, and it made her feel better to know that he understood what she was feeling.

"Maggie asked me to give you something," he said as he released her hand and reached into his vest.

"What is th-" she clasped her hand to her mouth as she looked at what he held.

In his hand was a Polaroid picture, Lana's smiling face filling the frame.

"She said Lana found a camera on their run and took a few pictures before… ya know. She thought you'd want to have this one."

She gingerly took the photograph from his hand, cradling it in her palms. She smiled down at it as the tears finally escaped. "She was a photographer," she explained, "before all of this. She was really talented."

"At least she got to do it one last time," Daryl offered.

Tilly nodded as she looked back at him. "You have no idea how grateful I am to have this. It means everything."

He smiled back at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. She leaned her head against his shoulder and for the first time since losing her friend Tilly felt ok.


	18. Chapter 18

As the sun began to rise, Daryl looked over at Tilly's sleeping form beside him. When she fell asleep a couple of hours into their watch he just let her rest. She actually looked peaceful as she laid on the porch, his jacket rolled up under her head and a blanket he had retrieved from inside thrown over her.

"Psst!" he whispered as he nudged her gently. "Hey Tills, it's time to get up."

She stirred a bit before she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Shit Daryl, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I really didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I know," he nodded, "but you needed the rest. Don't worry about it."

She gave him a small smile and passed his jacket back to him.

"You good out here?" she asked as she folded the blanket. "I'm gonna go see if Maggie's up."

"Yeah," he answered. "Go 'head."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before she headed inside.

The living room was still dark, the light from outside only just beginning to enter through the curtains. Glenn and Tara sat at the dining room table and talked quietly as the rest of the group still slept.

Tilly was careful not to step on anyone as she made her way toward the dining room.

"Morning," she called softly as she approached.

"Hey," Tara responded, rising to give her a quick hug.

"Everything go alright out there?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "Nice and quiet. How's the leg?"

Glenn pulled up his pant leg a bit to reveal the wound. "Not too bad. Whatever Eugene did to it seems to have kept it from getting infected, at least."

"Yeah," Tilly nodded as she bent down a little to look at his leg, "looks like it's already starting to heal."

She walked over to an empty chair and sat down, reaching for a water bottle that sat on the table. "Maggie up yet?" she asked after she took a big sip.

Glenn shook his head. "No, not yet. Why?"

"I just need to talk to her," she answered. "I owe her big time." She pulled the photo from her pocket and laid it on the table. "She gave this to Daryl, asked him to pass it along. They found a camera on their run and took a few pictures."

Tara smiled as she reached out and grabbed the picture, holding it close to her face so she could see it better. She and Lana had become friends since they joined the group, and she was also heartbroken over the loss. "It's nice to see her again," she whispered.

Tilly nodded as Tara handed the photo back, then tucked it gently back into her pocket. "The others should be up soon," Tilly said. "Wanna help me with breakfast, Tara?"

"Sure," she answered. "This place has a gas stove so we can make oatmeal."

Tilly chuckled a little. "Well, Carl won't be too happy about that, but I'd be glad for some warm food. It's really starting to get chilly out there."

"Only gonna get colder the farther north we go," Glenn added. "If we get up there and there's no place safe to find shelter the cold might kill us before the walkers have a chance to."

"We've all survived winters out here before. We can do it again," Tilly replied before heading off with Tara to begin breakfast.

Tilly was glad to have some time to talk to Tara. She was curious about how she came to be with the group after following the Governor.

"So, you lived in Woodbury?" Tilly asked as she stirred.

Tara shook her head. "No, from what I hear Woodbury was long gone before I even met Brian. I mean, the Governor."

"How did you meet him, then?" Tilly questioned. "I mean, if you don't mind talking about it."

"No, it's fine," she replied. "He found my family holed up in our apartment. We'd been there since everything started. It was just me, my sister Lilly, my niece Megan and my dad. Dad was really sick, and Brian risked his life to get him more oxygen. He put him down after he died. We thought he was a good guy."

Tilly looked over at Tara, who had her head down and was fiddling with her nails. She obviously felt foolish for ever aligning herself with him.

"Sometimes you can't tell someone is evil right off the bat," Tilly comforted. "And sometimes, even bad people do good things."

Tara nodded slightly. "I just wish I hadn't been so blind to what was really happening when we attacked the prison. When we pulled up and I heard Rick trying to negotiate with him I began to doubt it, but it wasn't until he killed Hershel that I knew what he really was."

"You couldn't have stopped it," Tilly said, removing the pot of oatmeal from the burner. "From what I've heard the others say, he was ruthless. If you'd spoken against him he would have just killed you, too."

"You're right," Tara agreed, "but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty, especially after seeing how good this group really is."

The others were beginning to wake, and Tilly was anxious to find Maggie. "Think you can handle dishing this out?" she asked as she patted Tara on the shoulder.

"Yeah, no problem."

When she went into the living room, everyone but Eugene was awake. He laid curled in the corner under a thin blanket, clearly exhausted from the events of the previous night. As much as it infuriated her that he had lied about something so enormous, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. She understood the need to do whatever it took to survive.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Maggie shoving her belongings into her pack and ran over to her, nearly knocking her backward as she threw her arms around her.

Maggie smiled and squeezed her tightly. Tilly didn't need to say anything, she knew the reason for her sudden affection.

"Thank you, Maggie," Tilly whispered. "Thank you so much."

When she pulled back, Maggie nodded. "It's the least I could do," she said. "I'm so sorry we couldn't save her, but I hope it helps you a little."

"You don't have to be sorry," Tilly responded, surprised to hear Maggie placing some of the blame for Lana's death on herself. "This is the world we live in. Sometimes people die."

After breakfast they set out again, this time on foot. Their plan was to keep heading north until they found a town and, in turn, vehicles. They stuck to the back roads, hoping to avoid another herd, and by mid-morning they had only encountered a handful of walkers, which they easily dispatched.

Tilly kept watch at the back of the group with Michonne, while Rick, Abraham and Daryl led the pack. Luckily, Abraham had grabbed his map before abandoning the bus, so they weren't flying blind.

"You're pretty good with that thing," Tilly remarked after Michonne chopped a rogue roamer in half with her katana. "You into martial arts or something?"

Michonne smiled and shook her head. "Nah, I found it in my neighbor's house when everything first happened. I got good out of necessity."

"I guess you get a lot of practice out here," Tilly added. "Were you on your own before you joined the group?"

The smile disappeared from Michonne's face. "Was for a while. Then I ran into Andrea."

"Who's Andrea?" Tilly asked curiously.

"She started out with the group when they were all outside Atlanta. She got separated when the farm was overrun and I found her. Eventually, we were captured and taken to Woodbury." The woman's scowl deepened as she spoke the name of the town. "She decided to stay and I got the hell outta there. I found the prison after I saw Glenn and Maggie get kidnapped by Merle."

Tilly raised an eyebrow at the familiar name. "Merle Dixon?"

"The one and only," she confirmed. "He wanted them to take him to Daryl and they refused, so he took them back to Woodbury and beat them til they talked."

"Daryl told me he was an asshole," Tilly replied, "but you'd have to be some kind of prick to hurt those two."

Michonne nodded. "Don't worry," she said as she looked over at the redhead, "Daryl's nothing like his brother. I will say, Merle was loyal to him. Daryl seemed to be the only thing he cared about besides himself."

"He told me how much it got to him when he died," Tilly mentioned, immediately regretting sharing something he told her privately. She wasn't one to gossip, but luckily it seemed Michonne wasn't either.

Michonne chuckled. "You managed to get Daryl to talk about his _feelings_? You some kind of wizard?"

"Don't tell anyone," Tilly winked, making both of them laugh.

By early afternoon they had crossed the border into South Carolina, finally putting Georgia behind them. And soon after that they found themselves on the outskirts of a small town.

"We'll stop here and see what we can find," Rick informed them as he turned to face the group. "Split up into pairs and check out any place you can find on this street. Don't go anywhere alone," he ordered, shooting Tilly a look. "Glenn, keep watch with Abraham and look after Judith. The rest of you, meet back here in an hour."

As everyone paired up, Tilly felt a tap on her shoulder. "Glenn's still outta commission you wanna be my buddy?"

"Sure," she answered. "Where do you wanna check first?"

"The pharmacy is usually a pretty safe bet. We're starting to run low on medical supplies," Maggie replied, and they set off toward the small brick building.

A sharp whistle sounded from behind them and they turned around to see what was going on. Daryl stood a block away, Michonne beside him. "Be careful!" he called.

"You, too," Tilly replied before turning back toward the drug store.

When they reached the entrance Maggie reached out and tugged on the door handle. "It's locked," she sighed. "Guess that could be a good thing, though. Maybe it hasn't been raided yet."

Tilly shook her head and pulled out her pistol. "Might also mean there's someone in there. Let's try the back. Keep your eyes open."

Maggie nodded and raised her gun as well as they made their way down an alley to the back of the building. When they found the metal door that led into the store, Tilly held a finger to her lips, a sign to Maggie to be as quiet as possible.

She grabbed the half-rusted doorknob and turned it slowly. She was relieved when it turned easily, and she carefully pulled the door open, cringing as its hinges creaked.

"Shit," she whispered, hoping that if anyone _was_ inside they hadn't been alerted by the noise.

The entry led into a pitch black room. "You got a flashlight?" Tilly whispered to Maggie as they stepped inside.

"Yeah, right here," a deep voice answered. A beam of light suddenly shined upward, illuminating the face of a man, his lips curled into a chilling smile.

"Fuck!" Tilly yelled, quickly shoving Maggie back toward the door. "Run!"

As she turned, Tilly felt the man's fingers wrap around her elbow, but she wasn't about to get captured again. She kicked as hard as she could in his direction and luckily made contact with his knee. He cried out as he let go and she followed Maggie into the street.

"Abraham!" Maggie called frantically.

The sergeant quickly sprinted toward them. "What's going on?" he asked.

"There's someone in the pharmacy," Tilly answered, her heart pounding in her chest.

"How many?"

"We only saw one," Maggie responded, "but we didn't stick around to see if there were more."

"Go find Rick," he ordered Maggie. "Get him back here, and anyone else you run into along the way. He went into the restaurant down there." He pointed in the direction the leader had headed and Maggie took off.

"We don't have a lot of bandages left," Tilly told him. "We need to get in that pharmacy."

He nodded, "We will. We just need to make sure we have the upper hand. We don't know what to expect or how many of them there are. You didn't see anyone else?"

"It was really dark," Tilly answered. "When we saw him he tried to grab me but I kicked the shit out of him and we took off."

Abraham patted her roughly on the back. "Good girl. We'll figure it out."

A couple of minutes later Maggie came running back, Rick, Carl, Michonne and Daryl trailing behind her.

"Over there," Maggie pointed toward the pharmacy. "He was in the back room. The front door's locked."

"Then they won't be expecting us from the front," Rick said, the wheels in his head turning as he came up with a plan. "We don't know how many there are, so I think it's best if we hit them from both sides at once."

The others nodded in agreement.

"Carl, you go help Glenn with Judith. Anyone you don't know gets too close, don't hesitate to shoot. Abraham, Daryl and Maggie, you take the back. Michonne, Tilly and I will bust through the front. When you hear the glass break, that's your cue to enter. Make sure you have your flashlight on, you can't go in there blind."

"We trying to take them out or talk to them?" Daryl asked as he removed his crossbow from his back and held it firmly in his hands.

"Weapons raised," Rick answered. "If they surrender, we'll talk. If they fight back, put them down."


	19. Chapter 19

"You ready?" Rick whispered to the two women standing behind him, their weapons raised.

Michonne and Tilly nodded, and Rick took a brick in his left hand, his trusty Python held tight in his right, and threw it through the glass door.

Around back, Abraham flung the door open at the sound of the shattering glass and held his flashlight above his head as he entered, Daryl and Maggie close behind. He swept his beam around the room, illuminating the stacks of boxes that lined the walls.

A muffled groan came from the farthest corner of the room and he quickly turned to shine his light toward the source. On the floor sat a stocky, dark-haired man who looked to be in his forties. He held tightly to his right knee, and they couldn't help but notice that his leg sat in a very unnatural position.

"That's him!" Maggie whispered. "The guy we saw earlier."

Daryl stepped next to Abraham and trained his crossbow at the stranger. The man held up his hand to shield his eyes from the light.

"You guys here to bust my other knee?" he asked gruffly.

"That's really up to you," Abraham answered. "Why don't you go ahead and tell us who you are."

"Tom Yates," he replied. "I'd shake your hand, but I can't really stand up to reach it right now."

"You alone?" Daryl asked.

"Depends on your definition of alone," Tom responded, smirking.

Abraham stepped closer to the man and crouched in front of him. "We don't got time for your bullshit right now, Yates. You're gonna answer our questions, or my friend over there's gonna put a bolt in your head."

Tom laughed in his face. "Might as well go ahead," he said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Can't run with my leg all jacked up. I'm pretty much dead already."

Abraham reached a hand out and placed it around the man's throat. "How 'bout this," he began, "if you're gonna keep being a smartass we'll kill ya alright, but we won't do ya the favor of shooting you in the head. We'll leave you to turn, let you spend the rest of your un-life crawlin' around as one of those nasty assholes."

Tom gulped and shifted a bit under the sergeant's grasp. "There are more of us. Not many, but they ain't here."

"You out on a run?" Maggie asked.

Tom smiled at the sound of Maggie's voice. "You're one of the ones that was in here earlier. Not the one that kicked me though," he said as he studied her in the dim light. "Trust me, I remember that one. Redhead. I tell you what, there's a thing or two I'd like to do to that girl."

Maggie gritted her teeth at the tone of the man's voice. She couldn't place what was behind it. Revenge? Lust? Either way, it made her uncomfortable.

"To answer your question," he continued, "yes, I was on a run."

Just then a gun shot rang out from the front of the store. Abraham jerked his head to look in that direction and Tom saw it as his opportunity to retaliate. He reached quickly down to his side and pulled a blade from the holster on his belt.

Maggie caught the glint of the metal in the light and lunged toward him.

"Abe, watch out!" she yelled as she launched herself toward the stranger, her elbow connecting with his face.

He screamed out in pain, but held tight to the knife. She grabbed at his hand, trying to wrestle it free from him and though he managed to slice her hand she held tight, Abraham quickly coming to her assistance and getting the knife free.

He tossed it to the side, and a moment later his fist connected with the man's face, knocking him out cold.

"Find something to tie him up," he ordered Maggie before handing her his flashlight and sprinting toward the front of the store where several more gunshots sounded.

Daryl kept his weapon pointed at Tom as Maggie found an electrical cord and bound his hands. Once he was secure they went to join the others in the store.

"Get down!" Michonne yelled when she saw them enter through the door. The two of them ducked behind the counter, only allowing the tops of their heads to show over it as they took in the situation.

Rick sat with his back against a shelf, the others in similar positions throughout the room. At the other side of the room sat two unfamiliar figures, one male and one female. The man was blonde, a leather jacket clung tightly to his large form. The woman was petite but was carrying a large rifle. She had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Leave!" the blonde man ordered. "Just leave and we won't have to kill any of you!"

"We're here for supplies," Rick answered. "We're not leaving without them."

From where they were, Daryl and Maggie had a clear view of both groups, and Daryl crept slowly around the edge of the counter to get a straight shot at the strangers. The man stood up and raised his pistol, aiming it toward where Rick sat.

Daryl didn't hesitate. He raised his crossbow and let a bolt fly. It stuck cleanly in the temple of the man and his body slumped to the floor.

"You motherfucker!" the woman screamed, turning toward Daryl and raising her rifle. Michonne appeared, seemingly from nowhere, behind the woman and rammed the handle of her katana into her head, knocking her off balance and sending a rogue shot into the wall as her finger brushed the trigger. She tackled the woman to the ground and pounded mercilessly on her arm until she let go of the gun.

"Clear!" Michonne yelled, signaling to the others that they could reveal themselves.

The dark-headed woman struggled under Michonne, but she kept her pinned to the ground. Tilly approached her and pointed her pistol toward her head.

As he stared at her extended arm, Daryl could see blood running down it, the cloth of her jacket torn.

"You can't just go around shooting people," Tilly taunted, her finger hovering over the trigger. "That shit hurts, ya know."

"We have your man," Maggie said as she stepped forward. "Tom. He's tied up in the back there."

"Now we just have to figure out what to do with you," Rick said dryly.

"Gonna kill me like you killed Austin?" she asked, referring the blonde man who lie bleeding a few feet away. "You kill us, the rest of our group will just track you down once they find us."

"You're with a bigger group?" Tilly questioned.

"That's what I said, bitch," she spat. "Bout twenty of us, and they aren't people you want to fuck with."

"Neither are we," Rick responded, crouching down next to the woman. "We don't like to kill," he explained, "but I have zero tolerance for anyone who attacks my people."

Michonne glared down at the woman underneath of her and then leaned closer, her face only a few inches from the other woman's.

"Don't think I caught your name," Michonne hissed.

"Sara," the woman responded, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Sara," Michonne repeated, "I think you're full of shit. There isn't a bigger group out there, and no one is going to come after us if we kill you."

Sara let out a guttural yell and slammed her head into Michonne's, sending her backward. She sat up quickly and made a grab for her rifle, but Tilly squeezed her trigger. The woman fell to the ground, a trail of blood running down the side of her head.

"We need to collect what we can and get out of here," Rick said as he stood. "After all of that noise we can't risk sticking around much longer."

"What about the other guy?" Maggie asked.

"I'll take care of it," he answered, walking toward the back of the store. "You guys gather what you can and find the others. Make it quick."

No one asked any questions. Instead they scattered to do as he had ordered.

"Hey, lemme see your arm," Daryl demanded as he walked to Tilly.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Bullet went through clean."

He scowled as he helped her pull off her jacket and raised her bloody, torn sleeve to examine the wound. There was, in fact, an exit wound, so he knew she'd be fine but he couldn't help the anger boiling inside of him.

"Fucking assholes," he spat, glaring at the two bodies on the floor.

She laid a hand on his bicep and turned him back toward her. "They're dead, Daryl. I'm fine. Just help me find something to stitch it up, and maybe some pain killers. It hurts like a bitch."

He nodded and went to retrieve the things he'd need to sew her up while she explored the aisle of pain pills. She found several bottles of extra-strength ones and tossed them into her bag before popping one open and dumping two pills into her hand.

"We can find ya something a little stronger than that in here," Daryl said as he walked over to her.

Tilly shook her head. "I can't afford to get all hopped up on anything, not when we're on the road like this." She popped the pills in her mouth, chasing them with a swig of water from her bottle.

He nodded in understanding and they sat on the floor so he could take care of her arm. "This is gonna sting," he said as he opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it over the hole.

She flinched a bit as the cold liquid burned her arm, but she remained quiet.

"You good?" Daryl asked, leaning his face closer to hers.

"Just stitch it up, Dixon. The anticipation is what's killing me," she answered.

He chuckled a little as he laced the thread and readied the needle. "Alright," he began, "here goes."

Tilly had her share of stitches since the world went to Hell, but she still couldn't shake the nausea that cascaded throughout her body at the feeling of the needle sliding through her skin. She sucked in a deep breath, refusing to vomit. She knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did.

"Can you go faster?" she hissed as he slowly continued his work.

"Not if you want it done right," he answered, a smile playing on his lips as she squirmed.

She turned her head to look at him, annoyed by his amusement. "You're enjoying this way too much," she accused. "Aren't you supposed to be sympathetic to someone who's been shot?"

"Aren't you supposed to be some sort of badass?" he countered. "Sittin' there trying not to barf over a few stitches?"

"I am _not_ going to barf," she said defensively.

"Then why's your face gone all green?" he laughed.

She punched him lightly with her other hand. "It's time for you to shut up, Dixon."

He smiled and shook his head as he finished up. Then he pulled a roll of gauze from beside him and wrapped her arm tightly before pulling her sleeve back down.

"That should do it," he said standing up and shoving the remaining supplies into his bag.

He offered her his hand and pulled her up, then they went to join the others in gathering supplies.

As Tilly wandered through the pharmacy, shoving anything she thought could be useful into her bag, she noticed Maggie staring at a rack of magazines, a bandage wrapped around her injured hand.

"This all seems so silly now," the brunette sighed as Tilly walked up beside her.

"I know what you mean," she nodded. "Celebrity gossip, fashion, diet recipes, none of that is any use at the end of the world."

Maggie picked up a magazine and flipped quickly through the pages. "It sure was nice to be able to worry about those things instead than scavenging and killing tactics, though," she said, smiling.

"No shit," Tilly agreed. "You know, I once spent two hours in a drug store trying to decide what kind of mascara to buy. Today I spent ten minutes in one trying not to get hit by a bullet."

Maggie laughed and shook her head. "Didn't fare very well in that regard."

"Nah, but at least I can add 'got shot' to my list of new life experiences," Tilly quipped. "I guess that boosts my tough chick status a bit. To be honest, other than the fear of dying 24/7, I don't really mind the way things are now. It's simpler: Survive or die. I can appreciate that."

Maggie nodded and set the magazine back on the rack before leaning in close to Tilly. "So," she whispered, "you two seem to still be getting along well." She gestured toward Daryl, who was tossing boxes of bandaids into his pack.

Tilly smiled and shoved Maggie playfully. "If you're looking for juicy gossip you'll have better luck getting it out of those rag-mags than me," she laughed. "But yeah, he's great most of the time. Sometimes he's an ass, but that's just how he operates."

"He cares about you," Maggie said matter-of-factly.

Tilly shrugged. "He cares about all of us. I think he just feels more comfortable around me for some reason."

"You hens done cluckin' over there?" Daryl yelled. "It's time to load up!"

Tilly sighed and wrapped her arm through Maggie's, then the two of them made their way outside.

The others had managed to find two working vehicles. It would be tight, but they'd be able to fit the whole group and their supplies into them.

Tilly tossed a bag of M&amp;Ms she found to Carl and a smile crossed his lips as he caught them. Rick grinned at the gesture as well and patted her on the arm in thanks. When she first joined the group, Tilly remembered being amazed at how well they could communicate without saying a word. Now, she had fallen into that as well. It was comforting to feel so close to other people, and it paid off in times of danger when talking wasn't really an option.

She climbed into the passenger seat of the dark blue SUV, Daryl sitting behind the wheel. Maggie, Glenn, Tara, Sasha and Tyreese sat in the back, supplies stuffed into the floor boards around their feet.

"Alright, kids," Tilly mused, "everyone have your seatbelts buckled? No fighting now, or Daryl will stop this car."

"Yes, mom!" Glenn yelled from the back.

"And you two," she continued, turning to point at Glenn and Maggie, "none of that funny business back there. I _will_ be doing hand checks."

The others laughed and Daryl shook his head as they finally started rolling, following the black van that held the others.

"How far out are we?" Sasha asked.

"Abraham thinks we can make it in a couple of days," Daryl answered. "Long as we don't run into any trouble."

"We _always_ run into trouble," Tara sighed.

"And we _always_ handle it," Glenn replied. "But what are we expecting to find once we get there?"

"Hopefully somewhere with walls," Tyreese answered. "I'm tired of having to sleep with one eye open all the time."

"Can't get too comfortable anywhere," Daryl said dryly. "You find somewhere safe from the geeks you're just gonna have people coming after you to take it for themselves. We can't ever stop watching our backs."

"You really don't think we'll ever find a place?" Sasha asked, disappointment in her voice.

Daryl shook his head. "Best we can hope for is somewhere to settle in for a while, same as the prison. Nothing's permanent anymore, though."

"Well, that's reassuring," Tara mumbled quietly.

"Maybe it won't be like this forever," Tilly said, trying to restore some of the morale Daryl had just shattered. "We could find somewhere to build a community, one strong enough to fight off anything that threatens it."

"You're dreamin', Tills," Daryl replied.

"Maybe," she nodded, "but you never know what the future holds. I mean, two years ago I thought I'd be living in my own place with a steady job, maybe a boyfriend by now, but instead I'm running around killing already-dead folk with you fine people. See? Anything's possible."


	20. Chapter 20

"Her mom was fucking _livid," _Tilly laughed as she recounted yet another story about her and Lana in their younger days.

"Are you serious?" Glenn asked, laughing. "A whole chicken? Like, an actual live chicken?"

Tilly nodded, "Yeah, we stole it from Mr. Parker's coop down the road. It's a good thing she found it. I'm not sure how long it would have lived in her trunk if she hadn't needed to go buy groceries that day."

Even Daryl was laughing by the end of her story. They had been driving for several hours and had taken turns telling stories about their lives pre-apocalypse. It almost made things feel normal, like they weren't on their way toward a city potentially containing millions of flesh-eating monsters.

"I remember the time I made the mistake of telling Beth I was going to cut school," Maggie began, smiling. "She was such a goody-two-shoes. Never one to rock the boat, and here I was sneaking cigarettes behind the stables. Anyway, there was this fair going on the next town over, food trucks, rides, a parade, the whole deal, and I wanted to go. I thought I could trust her, but turns out she'd gone and tattled to Daddy about it instead."

"Yeah, little sisters are a pain like that," Tyreese laughed, elbowing Sasha in the side.

"I tell you what," Maggie continued, "I've never been more shocked than when I showed up at that fair and he was waitin' at the gate. I did double chores for a month and I didn't get so much as a funnel cake out of that adventure."

"You think Beth's still out there?" Glenn asked, looking sympathetically at his wife.

"Wait," Tilly turned around to face Maggie, "was she with you guys before?"

Maggie nodded, her face solemn. "We got separated after the prison."

"She was taken," Daryl added. "I was with her, just the two of us. We were holed up in a funeral home, but it got overrun. I told her to wait outside while I took care of it and I came out just in time to see a car drive off with her inside."

"Why didn't you mention it before?" Tilly asked, her eyes wide. "I mean, we left without even looking for her."

Daryl shook his head. "I did look. There's no way we would be able to find her. No trail. She's just… gone."

"I'm sorry, Maggie," Tilly said softly.

"Maybe the people who took her were good," Sasha offered. "Maybe she's safe with another group now."

Maggie just nodded and gave Sasha a small smile, appreciating her effort to comfort her.

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I hope so."

His normally straight face had sadness written all over it. Tilly could tell he was still beating himself up for not being able to save her. That's probably why he hadn't said anything about it.

A few minutes later they stopped outside of a large brown house. The area was rural, and there were only a few other houses to be seen off in the distance. They all climbed out of the car and gathered in front of the porch while Rick and Michonne checked it out. They returned a few minutes later, each of them dragging the lifeless body of a walker out into the yard.

"Home sweet home," Glenn said, leaning on Maggie as he climbed the front steps.

"We're going to hunt," Daryl told Tilly once they had moved all of their things into the house.

"It's going to be dark _really_ soon," she observed. "You sure it's a good idea to go out there?"

"Rick says it's fine," he answered, "and we need to get some protein into everyone before we get into the city in case we have a battle ahead of us."

Tilly sighed, "We _always_ have a battle ahead of us. Alright, I'll find my bow."

She was still a little clumsy with the weapon, but was getting better with practice.

They met up a few minutes later, Daryl carrying his crossbow and a small bag of supplies Carol had packed for them just in case, and headed toward the woods.

Back at the house, the others passed around the small amount of food they had gathered in the town: some granola bars, a bag of chips and a few cans of fruit.

"I'm so tired of fruit cocktail," Carl sighed as he pushed the fruit around with his finger. "I don't even know what half the stuff in here is."

"No one does," Michonne replied, smiling. "It's one of life's many mysteries." She broke a granola bar in half and handed a piece to Carl.

"Be glad we found anything at all," Rick said. "With any luck, though, we'll have some meat when Daryl and Tilly get back."

"Do we have a plan once we get to the city?" Sasha asked, changing the subject. "I mean, we can't just drive right into it. Where do we start?"

"We'll start in the suburbs," Rosita answered. "Work our way in from there depending on what we find."

Rick nodded in agreement. "We'll only go as close to the city as we need to. I imagine we'll still be able to find plenty just outside the city and we'll be safer there."

"_Safer_," Glenn scoffed. He was still not on-board with this plan. He remembered all-too-well what it was like in Atlanta and had no desire to deal with that again, especially with his leg still not completely healed.

"Hey, I hit it!" Tilly announced triumphantly as she held up a rabbit, her arrow stuck through it's head.

"Not too bad," Daryl nodded, patting her on the back. "Now we just gotta find about ten more of those and we'll be all set."

Tilly sighed and strung the rabbit onto a rope before handing it back to Daryl, who hung it over his shoulder.

"Why didn't you say anything about Maggie's sister?" she pried as they walked.

Daryl tensed up at her question. Beth was a tough topic for him. He blamed himself for her being taken and though he knew realistically he had no way to find her, it still bothered him everyday.

"Never came up," he answered without looking at her.

"Hey," Tilly said as she grabbed his shoulder and turned him toward her. "It's not your fault, you know."

"How would you know?" he spat. "You weren't there!"

"Because I know you. I know you did everything you could to find her," she explained. "Carol told me about how you looked for Sophia even after everyone else had given up."

"Lotta good that did," he hissed. "Couldn't find her neither, not til crazy-ass Shane let all the walkers out of the barn and we found out she'd been dead the whole time."

Though outwardly he was angry, Tilly could sense the pain behind his words.

"You're too hard on yourself, Daryl," she said softly as she grabbed his hand. He tensed, but she held tight. "You're an asset, maybe the _biggest_ asset, to this group. You've saved all of our asses more times than I can count. Sometimes you _can't_ save people. It sucks. It's the absolute worst feeling in the world, but it's just how things are."

Daryl stared at his boots, unsure of how to react to her words. If they'd come from anyone else he would have blown them off, but it was somehow more comforting coming from her.

Tilly reached out and grabbed his face, bringing his eyes to meet hers. "Listen to me good, Dixon. You're extraordinary. The fact that you have lost people doesn't diminish that, and I hope someday you come to realize that."

He nodded slightly as he stared at her face, her eyes lit with passion.

"Plus," she continued, "if Beth is anything like her sister I'm sure she's just fine."

Daryl nodded. "Hope you're right."

"I'm always right," she smiled before leaning in and giving him a kiss.

The moment was cut short when the sound of a gunshot echoed amongst the trees.

"Did that come from the house?" Tilly asked, her eyes wide.

"No," he answered, pointing further into the forest, "came from that way."

Before he could stop her, she took off running toward the source.

"Fuck," he muttered, sprinting after her. "Could be dangerous, Tilly!"

"And it could be someone who needs our help!" she called back as she ran.

Soon they came upon a cabin, the light from a lantern flickering through the window.

"Where is it?" a man's voice boomed from inside. "What'd you do with my fucking knife?"

A woman screamed in response and the two slowed their pace as they crept to peek into the window.

A dark haired teenage girl laid on her back on the floor, a large man perched on top of her with a gun in her face. Another man lay bleeding on the floor beside them.

"I'll kill you like I killed that prick if you don't hand it over!" he yelled, the girl shaking her head hysterically in response. He reared his hand back and smacked her across the face.

That was enough for Daryl. He ran to the front door and damn near kicked it off the hinges as he entered, crossbow raised at the man.

"Get the fuck off of her," he demanded.

"Well, that's a cute little bow and all, but I'll have you know this bitch took something important to me and I'm just lookin' to get it back," he explained.

"You take his knife?" Tilly asked, stepping beside Daryl with her gun raised.

The girl shook her head.

"Girl says she didn't take it," Tilly said, clicking her safety off. "Seems to me the case is closed. Why don't you go ahead and get off of her now?"

The man quickly turned and fired a shot toward Daryl, causing both of them to dive out of the way as the bullet narrowly missed his head. When Daryl stood back up his heart began to race as he saw the man sitting behind Tilly, his arm wrapped around her neck and his gun stuck in her temple.

Daryl shot her a pleading look, hoping she wouldn't do anything as stupid as the last time she found herself in this situation.

"You're gonna leave," the man ordered. "You take that thieving bitch with you. This one's staying with me."

"The hell she is," Daryl barked.

"Let me rephrase," he explained, "you're going to leave with the girl or I'm going to shoot yours in her pretty little head. Got it?"

Daryl racked his brain trying to come up with a plan. With the way the stranger was positioned behind Tilly he couldn't get a clear shot without risking hitting her.

"Go, Daryl," Tilly said, that familiar look of determination in her eyes. "Take her and go."

He shook his head. "Not leaving ya, Matilda."

"Either you do it or this asshole is going to shoot me," she replied. "I'll be _fine._"

"See, she gets it," the man laughed.

The last thing she wanted to do was stay with that bastard, but she knew that wasn't her moment to escape. She needed Daryl to leave so the man would think she was helpless. That was her only chance of getting the gun out of the side of her face.

Knowing he didn't have any other options at the moment, Daryl walked slowly to the girl, never letting the man leave the sights of his crossbow, and helped her up.

"C'mon," he ordered. "We're going."

He hated it, but he knew they'd have a better chance of getting everyone out of there alive if he had backup, and he knew Tilly could take care of herself in the meantime.

Her heart sank as she watched him leave, closing the door behind him, but she remained calm. She wasn't going to let herself panic and do something stupid.

"What's the bandage on your arm?" the man barked as he stood up. "You bit?"

"Gunshot," she answered flatly.

He nodded, believing her, and crouched down in front of where she sat on the floor. "I guess if we're going to be spending all of this time together I should introduce myself," he began, a sickening smile playing on his lips. "Name's Parker. Yours?"

She begrudgingly took the hand he held out to her and shook it. "Tilly. My name's Tilly."

"Well Tilly," he said as he pulled her to her feet, "there's a few rules around here you outta know."

_Oh, great, _she thought, _this guy thinks he has power. _

"First, no touching my shit," he explained. "You saw what happened to the last bitch who did. If you want something, you ask. Second, you do what I say. You're here for my benefit. We aren't partners. We aren't equals. Got it?"

Tilly scowled at him. "That it? Those all the rules?"

"All the ones you need to know right now," he answered. "We need to hoof it on out of here. I'm not stupid enough to think your little boyfriend isn't coming back for you. You with a bigger group?"

"No," Tilly lied. "It's just us." Her eyes quickly darted around the room, looking for anything she could use to arm herself. She caught the glimmer of metal sticking out from a hand towel on the counter and immediately knew she had found the illusive missing knife.

"Good," Parker nodded. "I'll just gather my things. That bitch left her shit here, so you're welcome to whatever clothes and junk she had." He gestured to a small red backpack lying in the corner.

"Thanks," she said, giving him her best fake smile. "I'll see what's in there."

He nodded and quickly grabbed her gun and bow before leaving to go pack up his belongings in another room. Once he was out of sight, she made her move. She tip-toed as quietly as she could over to the table and grabbed the knife, stashing it down the side of her boot before bolting over to the backpack and dumping the contents onto the floor.

She began to sort through the sparse belongings: A pair of socks, a water bottle, a small length of rope, a pair of shorts, a lighter and a box of bobby pins.

"Anything good?" She jumped as the man appeared behind her.

"Just some clothes," she answered. "I was hoping for some food. We were out hunting when we found you, so I haven't had a chance to eat in a while."

Parker walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a tin of peanuts, tossing it to her. "Eat up," he said. "We've got some traveling ahead of us."

"Where are you headed?" she asked as she peeled the seal off of the tin.

"You mean where are _we_ headed," he corrected her. "We're headed north, DC eventually. I hear there's a settlement there."

"How can you be sure?" she asked.

Her simple question seemed to infuriate the man, and he wrapped his hand around her collar as he pulled her to his face. "That's the third rule," he hissed, his ripe breath making bile rise in her throat, "don't _ever_ doubt me. I know what I know, it's no matter to you how I know it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," she answered as she reached down, feigning scratching her leg.

"Good," he smiled. "I think you and I are gonna get along just fi-"

He was cut short by the blade Tilly jammed into his gut.

His grip loosened, and she made an attempt to pull away, but even with blood pouring from his stomach he was fast. He grabbed her injured arm and she yelped as she swung the knife at him again, this time opening a gash on his shoulder.

Parker was hurt badly, but he still wasn't making it easy for Tilly to escape. As he tugged on her arm again, she noticed an oil lantern sitting on a chair not far from her hand. She dropped the knife and grabbed the glass light, bringing it down swiftly on his head. It shattered, the shards imbedding themselves in his face and neck.

Tilly crawled to the corner of the room where she had dumped the other girl's things and grabbed the silver zippo. She flicked it a couple of times, willing it to light. When the flame finally danced out of the lighter she flung it at the man.

Just as she had hoped, the oil that dripped from his face down to his chest caught, and in a moment he was flailing around the cabin, trying desperately to escape the flames that consumed the top half of his body.

She quickly shoved everything she could find, including his knife, into the backpack and ran out of the back door.

_I can't stay here,_ she thought as she saw that the curtains of the cabin had also caught fire. _The fire will attract every geek for miles._

She tried desperately to remember the way she and Daryl had come from, hoping to find her way back to camp, but it was nearly impossible in the dark. As the fire began to spread, she could hear familiar groans in the distance. The dead were coming. She had to move.

She ran in what she believed was the direction of the house, but as the night progressed and she got farther and farther from the burning cabin, it became apparent to her that she was lost. Very, very lost. Defeated and exhausted, she sat down on the ground, leaning against the trunk of a tree as she gazed at the night sky.

"This is bad," she whispered to herself. "Really fucking bad. Good job, Matilda."

Something rustled to her left and it only took her a moment to recognize the sound of shuffling feet on leaves. She reached instinctively to the back of her jeans before realizing she must have left both her gun and bow back at the burning cabin.

She sighed and pulled Parker's knife from her bag as she crept in the direction of the noise. The moonlight illuminated the faces of two walkers as they stepped out into the path in front of her.

She kicked the first one in the leg before jamming her blade into the skull of the other. The first one snapped at her from the ground as she pulled her knife free, then imbedded it between his eyes.

Her heart raced as she realized she needed to come up with a plan quickly. She was a sitting duck hanging out in the middle of the woods. As she looked toward the sky again, she suddenly realized what she needed to do.

_I'll head north,_ she thought. _I'll meet them in DC._

She smiled as she located the North Star, her only map, and began trudging toward what she hoped wasn't certain death.

By the time the sun began to rise Tilly had put a lot of distance between herself and her friends. She was completely drained, and knew she would need to find some food and a place to rest if she wanted to even live to see Washington.

She took a swig from her water bottle as she scoped out the area. She was no longer in the woods, but following a small country highway, trees lining both sides of it. She smiled as she noticed a large green sign in the distance. _Washington DC: 60 miles_

She was still a long way away, but it felt good to know she was headed in the right direction. She considered finding a tree to sleep in, but she knew she wasn't going to have much luck climbing with her injured arm. Her best chance was to keep walking until she found a town.

She shoved the bottle back into her pack and sighed as she willed her legs to keep pushing her forward just a little longer.

"Don't die, Tilly," she said to herself as she walked, ignoring her burning hamstrings. "You stop moving and you're going to die."

A few minutes later she stopped dead in her tracks as the sound of a car rumbled in the distance. She quickly ran to the side of the road, concealing herself behind the trees just in time to see a large black truck drive slowly into sight. They weren't just passing through, they were obviously looking for something.

The driver's head whipped side to side as they cruised, his dark, low ponytail swinging behind him.

Once they passed, Tilly was about to come out of hiding when the truck suddenly stopped. She quickly slunk back into the foliage as the door opened and the driver got out.

He was one of the largest men she had ever seen. He wore a dark leather jacket, and though he was handsome she immediately got the feeling that he was dangerous. He walked around the perimeter of the truck, sweeping his eyes around the edge of the woods.

"Everything alright, boss?" Another man climbed down from the passenger side. He was smaller than the first one, one side of his face deformed as if he had fallen into a fire. "Need me to get Lucille?"

"Don't you fucking touch Lucille," the first man, clearly the leader, boomed. "Just thought I saw something. Won't be needing her assistance right now."

The other man nodded and stepped back into the truck. "We'll find the girl," he reassured the leader. "She can't have gotten far."

"That little bitch is going to fucking pay when we do," the leader said as he too began to climb into the truck. "Knocked a whole fucking section of the fence down, let those undead fucks in so she could escape." The rest of the conversation was cut off as the both shut their doors and began to drive away.

Tilly was so focused on the men that she hadn't even heard the footsteps approaching her from behind until she felt a hand clasp over her mouth.

She spun around quickly and raised her knife. Behind her stood a pretty blond girl, no older than 18, her hands raised in surrender.

"Ain't trying to hurt you," the girl said. "Just didn't want you to scream. They might have heard."

"Are you who they're looking for?" Tilly asked, her eyes wide.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I'm headed south, far away from those assholes. Hoping to find my friends."

"Same here," Tilly responded. "But I'm going to DC. You're welcome to come if you don't want to keep going on your own. That's where my group was headed when we got separated. They'd take you in."

The girl shook her head. "I don't know."

"Why don't we find somewhere to take shelter for a bit and you can decide later," Tilly suggested. She held out her hand for the girl to shake. "I'm Tilly, by the way."

The blond grasped her hand lightly. "Beth."


	21. Chapter 21

"Beth?" Tilly repeated. She shook her head as thoughts of the conversation she'd had with Daryl and Maggie flooded her brain. Beth wasn't an uncommon name, and there was no way Maggie's sister had made it that far north on her own.

"Something wrong?" Beth asked as she saw Tilly's face harden.

"No," Tilly shook her head, "no, everything's fine. I'm just tired. We need to get going, find somewhere to rest for a while."

The girls continued north as they searched for shelter. They followed the highway but kept behind the treeline in case the men came back.

"What happened with those guys?" Tilly asked as they walked.

"I was traded to them," Beth answered, anger in her voice. "They're like some kind of mafia. The other communities here give them supplies in exchange for their safety."

"They protect the other groups? That doesn't sound terrible."

Beth shook her head. "They don't so much protect them as agree not to kill all of them. One of the groups wasn't able to come up with enough, so they sent scouts south to find something worth giving. They found me and another girl, Claire."

"Oh god, Beth," Tilly gasped. "Did they-"

"No," she cut her off, "they didn't rape us, if that's what you're going to ask. They're sick people, but that seems to be their only rule. We were held as _wives_, which is just a nice way of saying _slaves_."

"How'd you get out?" Tilly pried.

"Claire," she said sadly. "She's the only reason I made it. She distracted the guards long enough for me to steal a van and ram it through the fence. There's no telling what they did to her after I left." Tears welled up in Beth's eyes as she continued her story. "I figured the biters coming in through the fence would keep them busy long enough for me to put some distance between us, and it did, but I ran out of gas just a few miles out. I had to ditch the car, which is probably how they knew which way I went."

"Well, you're headed in the opposite direction now, so hopefully that'll throw them off," Tilly said, attempting to comfort the girl. "There are some houses up ahead. We'll clear one and stay there for the night."

They chose a small green house as their temporary home. Two rocking chairs sat on the white-painted porch and ivy climbed up the lattice underneath the windows. If not for the peeling paint and overgrown grass it would have been quite picturesque.

Tilly went inside to sweep the rooms as Beth kept watch on the porch. To her relief, there were no walkers, or people, to be found inside.

"It's clear," she said quietly, signaling Beth to come inside.

The women made quick work of moving furniture in front of the doors and closing all of the blinds. After that they split up to search the home for supplies.

Beth took the kitchen, and as she opened the cabinets she was elated to find they weren't nearly bare. She pulled out several cans of soup, a bag of pretzels and some dried fruit and set them on the table.

Tilly managed to find a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the bathroom and two winter coats in the master bedroom. Her thin jacket wasn't doing much to keep out the chilled air, so she was grateful to find something heavier. She removed her tattered jacket and tossed it across the room before pulling on a black down puffer. She saved the other one, a thick, dark purple wool coat, for Beth.

"Thought you might need this," she said as she entered the kitchen and handed the coat to Beth.

She smiled as she slipped her arms in and buttoned it up. "It's great," she smiled. "Thanks. I found all of this." She gestured to the small feast spread across the table.

"Seems it's our lucky day," Tilly laughed as they each took a seat.

"Tell me about the group you were with," Tilly said as she dipped a spoon into her can of vegetable soup.

Beth swallowed her mouthful of pretzels before answering. "I don't even know if any of them are alive anymore," she explained. "We were attacked before I was separated. I watched this maniac chop-" She hesitated, afraid of saying it out loud. "He, uh, he killed my daddy, right in front of us."

Tilly's eyes grew wide at the familiar story. "Hershel?" she choked out. Tears welled in her eyes as she hoped against hope she was right.

"How do you-"

"Beth Greene?" Tilly whispered. "It's you, isn't it?"

Beth was speechless. "Were you with them?" she asked.

Tilly nodded. "I was. I was hunting with Daryl when I got lost."

"Oh, my god," Beth cried, nearly diving over the table to wrap Tilly in a hug. "Are they ok? Maggie? Glenn?"

"They're fine," Tilly smiled as she returned the embrace. "They all found each other. They're heading toward DC now."

Beth pulled back from Tilly and began bombarding her with a million questions about the happenings after the prison. She filled Beth in on who was still with the group. She told her about Terminus, Father Gabriel, and Abraham's group.

"Daryl searched for you," Tilly added. "He feels so guilty for losing you, but I'm sure you already knew he'd look for you."

"Of course," Beth replied. "I knew he would, I was just afraid he'd get hurt doing it. He nearly died looking for Sophia at the farm. I'm glad he's alright."

"They're going to be so happy to see you," Tilly smiled.

"What makes you so sure we'll be able to find them?" Beth asked, her face turning solemn. "It's a big city. We don't even know where to look."

"I found you, and I wasn't even trying," Tilly said with a wink.

No sooner had those words left Tilly's mouth than the roar of a vehicle came from outside. She ran to the window and peeked through the blinds. Sitting only a little down the road was the same black truck she had seen on the highway.

"Motherfucker," Tilly whispered. "It's them."

Beth joined her at the window in time to see the two men climbing out of the truck. They could just make out their muffled voices.

"We'll just do a quick sweep of these houses," the leader ordered. "You take that one, and I'll start over here."

A chill ran through Tilly as he pointed in the direction of their house.

"Go," she whispered to Beth. "Get everything you can and go out the back. Run to the woods."

Beth nodded and they began shoving their belongings and the remaining food into their packs.

Their hearts skipped a beat when they heard the door knob turning. Tilly grabbed Beth's arm and drug her toward the back door. They moved the desk they had barricaded it with as quietly as they could manage, but it seemed the man already knew they were there.

"It's alright, Bethy!" He called cheerfully as he banged his fist on the door. "I just wanna have a little chat. I'm sure that was all just a big misunderstanding, right? Open the door and we'll take you back in, no questions asked."

They both knew he was lying. Beth pulled the back door open and began to sprint as fast as she could toward the treeline. Tilly shut the door behind her, hoping he wouldn't immediately figure out the direction they'd headed, and ran after her.

When she caught up to Beth she grabbed her arm, begging her to pick up her pace. There was no time for them to rest. She knew the man would probably figure out where they went soon, so she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

"We have to find a car," Tilly panted as they finally stopped to catch their breath. "We can't be out here on foot when it gets dark, but we can't afford to stop and make camp anywhere yet."

They both took a minute to drink a bit of their meager water supply before continuing their hike. Soon, the edge of the woods came into sight and Beth pointed ahead of them as they stepped out into the open.

"If we can get to the top of that hill we should be able to scope out the area," she suggested.

Tilly nodded in agreement and though she was hesitant to walk out in the open it really did seem like their best option. The sun was beginning to sink low in the sky, so she knew they needed to move quickly.

They sprinted to the top and turned their backs to each other, each of them scouring the opposite direction. The area was rural, but ahead of her Tilly could make out what appeared to be a subdivision a few miles away.

"Over there," Tilly announced, Beth turning to see what she was pointing at. "There's bound to be at least one car we can use in that neighborhood."

Beth shook her head. "Place is crawling with walkers, I can see them moving from here."

"We don't have much of a choice," Tilly said, patting Beth on the shoulder. "I'd rather deal with walkers than people, anyway. At least we know what to expect from them."

They made their way down the hill and ran in the direction of the neighborhood. They didn't have time to waste walking anymore. As confident as she was in her ability to handle the geeks, Tilly didn't want to risk having to do it in the dark.

Eventually, the cluster of houses came into sight and Tilly's heart sank as she evaluated the scene. There were more corpses than she'd bargained for, at least three dozen, wandering the streets.

"Why are there so many?" she wondered aloud. "Usually in neighborhoods like this you only run into a few, mostly trapped inside their homes."

"We're close to the city," Beth reasoned. "I'm sure most of them are just wandering through."

"You have your gun, right?" Tilly asked, and Beth responded by pulling it out of the back of her jeans. "Good. I'm going to make a run for that green car. I need you to cover me. Don't shoot unless you have to."

The small compact car was the closest to them and if she could get it started Tilly knew it would be the easiest on gas.

"What if there aren't keys in it?" Beth whispered.

A smile crossed Tilly's face. "That's not an issue. If it has gas in it, I'll get it started." Surprisingly, it wasn't her electrician background that had instilled her with the ability to hotwire a car, but good ole Joseph.

_"What are we doing out here, Joe?" Tilly asked as she evaluated the decrepit houses that surrounded them. "Your mom would kill us if she knew we were in this part of town."_

_Joseph laughed. "Well, she doesn't. You ready to learn something new?" _

_The mischievous look in his dark brown eyes was unnerving, but at the same time it excited her. She had always admired Joseph's spontaneous nature. Though it had gotten both of them into trouble plenty of times he sure knew how to keep things from being boring. _

_"I guess so," she sighed. _

_He swept his head back and forth, making sure no one was watching, before tugging at the handle of a nearby car. _

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude," Tilly held up her hands and stepped back a bit. "I'm not looking to become a felon before I graduate."_

_"It's fine, Tills," he reassured her as the door creaked open. "We're not taking this piece of shit, I just need to borrow it for a second. Come here."_

_She joined him at the driver's door and watched as he laid down to look under the dash. He popped a panel off from below the wheel and pulled out a cluster of wires. She watched intensely, fascinated by his work. _

_He explained the steps to her as he worked and a moment later the car came roaring to life. He got to his feet and wiped his hands together, pride washing over his face. _

_Tilly shook her head and chuckled. "That's pretty cool and all, but why exactly do I need to know this?"_

_"In case you ever need to steal a car."_

Tilly took a deep breath and looked once more over her shoulder at Beth who nodded silently and held her pistol in front of her. As quietly as she could Tilly ran toward the green car, praying to go unnoticed until she could get it started.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quite so lucky. Two nearby geeks turned and began to lumber toward her as she reached the door. She pulled her knife from her belt and dispatched them as silently as she could manage. The _thud_ of their bodies hitting the pavement was enough to draw the attention of a few geeks, but they were far enough away that she didn't have to worry about them for the moment.

"Come on, come on, come on," Beth chanted quietly as she stared at the redhead. She saw the walkers headed in her direction and hoped she would get it started quickly enough that she wouldn't need to shoot.

Tilly yanked on the door handle and thankfully it was unlocked. It swung open quickly, nearly knocking her backward, but she regained her balance and dove under the dash. She willed herself to calm down and focus on the steps Joseph had taught her.

Her hands groped around the hard plastic until she found the panel and pulled it away. She quickly sat up to check the position of the oncoming walkers, who were then only about twenty feet away, before getting to work with the wires.

She jumped as the engine came to life, but relief rushed through her. She stood just in time to be face-to-face with a short female walker, and she punched her in her rotted cheek before sticking her knife cleanly into the side of her head.

She turned toward Beth and waved for her to join her as she continued to fight off the small herd.

"They've seen us!" she called as Beth reached the street. "Just get in!"

Beth shoved a corpse out of her way, not bothering to stop and kill it, before opening the passenger door and getting inside.

When she finally had a clear path, Tilly joined her.

"Half a tank," she smiled, looking at the display panel. "That'll do." Then she floored it, running over the legs of the walker Beth had knocked down as they rolled out of the town and headed north.

The sunset painted the sky to their left as they reached the main road, and for a moment they felt like they could breathe.

"Tomorrow," Tilly said resolutely as they passed another sign signaling their approach to DC, "tomorrow, we'll find them."


	22. Chapter 22

Tyreese stood up quickly from the porch where he kept watch as he saw two figures walking toward the house. As they stepped closer he could see their faces.

"Daryl?" he called as he ran toward them, keeping his eyes on the strange girl next to him. "Where's Tilly?"

Daryl just shook his head and walked right past him toward the house. "I'll explain inside."

All eyes were on the pair as they entered, and their faces visibly dropped as they saw the girl that accompanied Daryl wasn't Tilly.

"What's going on?" Rick asked, stepping forward. "Did something happen to Tilly?"

"She's alive," Daryl answered, casting his eyes to the ground. He was ashamed to admit he had been forced to leave her behind. "We found some asshole about to kill her," he pointed to the dark-headed girl who cowered next to him. "Shit got crazy and he ended up with his gun stuck in the side of Tilly's head. Told me to take this one and he'd keep her. I couldn't get a clear shot, so I came back here for reinforcements."

"You left her?" Glenn accused, a look a disgust on his face.

"She can take care of herself!" Daryl barked as got in Glenn's face. "You think I wanted to fucking leave her there? Didn't have a choice if I wanted everyone to get out alive."

Rick stepped between the two men and gently pushed Daryl away. "Alright," the leader nodded, "we'll go back now."

Maggie, Michonne and Carl volunteered to go with them, and Carol took it upon herself to take care of the new girl while they gathered their weapons.

"What's your name, sweetie?" she asked gently as she led the girl to a couch.

"Ashton," she answered. "Ashton Marks."

"Who was the man you were with?" Carol prodded as she pulled out a rag and began to wipe the dirt and traces of blood from Ashton's face.

"My uncle," she replied, tears pooling in her eyes. "He killed my dad, and if they hadn't showed up I'd have been next. If he kills that lady it'll be all my fault."

Carol dropped the rag and pulled the girl to her chest. Ashton didn't resist and let herself lean into the embrace. "Tilly will be fine," Carol said softly as she stroked the girl's hair. "I have no doubt."

"I want to come," Glenn insisted as Maggie took inventory of her small stash of ammo. "I hate sitting around here being useless."

Maggie leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "If that leg doesn't heal up right you _will_ be useless. Stay here and rest. We're just dealing with one guy here, shouldn't be a big deal."

"Ya'll ready?" Daryl called as he pulled the front door open, chomping at the bit to get going.

The others met him in front of the house and he led them in the direction of the cabin. The only light outside was from the half-moon, but he had no trouble finding their trail. Daryl still had the rabbit Tilly killed slung over his shoulder. His mind was so preoccupied he hadn't even thought to leave it at the house.

"It's not much farther," he explained as he studied their surroundings.

"Hey, do you guys smell smoke?" Maggie asked, sniffing the air.

Rick nodded, "Yeah, I do."

The group picked up their pace in an attempt to catch up with Daryl who had broken into a jog as he approached the cabin. He froze as he reached the edge of the clearing where it sat.

Half-a-dozen walkers wandered around the place as flames licked out of the roof and windows.

"Shit," Daryl hissed, shooting a bolt into the head of a nearby corpse. He took off running around the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign of Tilly. "She ain't here," he sighed as he made his way back to the others.

"You think she did this?" Michonne asked as she casually ran her blade through the face of a walker before decapitating another.

Daryl didn't respond. He was too busy searching the edge of the woods for a trail, any sign that could tell him which direction she went.

"Anything?" Rick asked.

Daryl shook his head as he picked up a large rock and chucked it toward a geek. "Can't see a fucking thing out here." He felt a heaviness in his chest. He'd lost someone else, and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave her behind.

Carl, Maggie and Michonne took out the rest of the walkers as Rick approached the hunter, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly as he leaned close to his face. "This isn't your fault. We'll come back first thing in the morning. Maybe you'll be able to pick up her trail then."

"I'm not leaving her out here," Daryl hissed. "We decided to 'pick it up at first light' with Sophia and look what happened!"

"Tilly isn't Sophia," Rick responded firmly. "She can take care of herself for a night, you know that. She's probably up in a tree somewhere, or maybe even on her way back to the house."

Daryl shook his head and began to pace. "I ain't going back without finding her!" he yelled.

Rick wasn't shocked by Daryl's outburst, but he knew if he let him stay out and look there was a chance he wouldn't make it back. "We're going back, Daryl," Rick ordered. "This isn't a debate. I'm not letting you go out in the dark and get yourself killed."

"Whatever," Daryl hissed as he stomped back in the direction of the house. Rick whistled at the others and they began to follow him back to camp.

Daryl volunteered to keep watch when they returned, and Rick asked Michonne to stay with him, just incase he decided to wander off after Tilly. He hated feeling like he was being babysat, but he was glad it was Michonne he was paired with. At least she knew how to keep quiet.

They sat in comfortable silence, staring off into the night for a few hours before Michonne elbowed him gently in the arm. "Over there," she whispered, pointing down the road. Silhouetted by the moon, headed in their direction, was a crowd of the undead. He tried to count them quickly, but stopped trying when he reached twenty.

"Get the others," he whispered and she took off inside the house.

His brain was running a million miles a minute as he struggled to figure out how they were going to handle all of them. At that point, they were running on minimal ammo, not that popping off rounds in the middle of a herd was a good idea, anyway.

A moment later Rick came bounding through the door onto the porch. He studied the approaching horde for a second. "We have to go," he said quietly. "We can't handle that many."

"We can't fucking leave," Daryl insisted. "Tilly's still out there."

"I know, brother," Rick said, lying his hand on Daryl's shoulder, "but we can't risk the rest of the group. Michonne, get the others and tell them to pack up and head to the cars. We're leaving now."

Daryl kicked the railing of the porch, splintering the wood, before walking out into the yard and aiming his crossbow toward the walkers. They were still too far off for him to get an accurate shot, but he didn't care. He was filled with rage and needed to kill the undead bastards that were forcing him to leave his friend behind. He fired once, his bolt unsurprisingly missing the mark and sticking into the chest of a walker.

"Daryl!" Glenn called as the others began to file out and pile into the cars. "Daryl, we have to go!"

"Motherfucker," he spat as he lowered his crossbow and walked backward toward the awaiting SUV. He climbed in the back seat next to Carol, Ashton sitting on her other side, and slammed the door before Maggie punched the gas and they were speeding away from any hope of being reunited with Tilly.

Daryl's face was pressed against the cold window as the sun began to rise. They'd driven through the night, only stopping for a few minutes to regroup, as they continued toward DC.

With the exception of Sasha, who had taken over as driver, the others were asleep.

"You alright?" Sasha asked, knowing he was awake, but he continued to stare silently out of the window. "She knows which way we're headed," she continued despite his lack of response. "She'll find her way there."

"The hell do you know?" he answered harshly.

Sasha shook her head. She knew not to take his anger personally. "I _know _that this fucking sucks. I _know_ that you're beating yourself up over losing someone else. I also _know_ that sitting back there pouting doesn't help us a damn bit, so you need to snap out of it."

"Fuck you," he hissed.

"You know," she began, "I lost my fucking boyfriend a couple of days ago and you don't see me moping around. The difference there is your girl is still _alive_. I'll never see Bob again, so excuse me if I don't have a whole lot of sympathy. I care about Tilly, too, but there's nothing we can do right now."

_You let things get to you, you'll get yourself killed. _Tilly's words flashed in his mind, and as much as he wanted to push Sasha out of the moving car for opening her big mouth he knew she was right. He'd never admit that to her though, so he just continued to stare out of the window.

In the other vehicle, Michonne sat in the back seat next to Morgan. "Haven't heard much of anything out of you since you got here," she said to him, though being the stoic type herself she didn't have much room to judge.

"Haven't had a lot to say," he responded. "I'm still getting used to being around people again."

Michonne understood the feeling. When she first joined the group at the prison it had been a huge adjustment. "I was on my own for a long time before I met Rick," she shared. "You get used to the quiet. It's a big shift being surrounded by strangers all of a sudden."

Morgan just nodded in response and stared at the notebook he held in his lap.

"I know you know Rick, but do you remember me?" she asked. "You were a little on the cuckoo side when we last saw you."

"Yeah," he answered. "I remember. I was in a dark place, still kinda am, but my memory is fine." He was a little insulted by her question, but at the same time he was self-aware enough to understand how he probably came across.

"Rick told me about your boy," she said sadly. "I'm sorry. It's easy to lose yourself when something like that happens."

"You have kids?" he dared to ask, and the look on her face told him the answer. "You did."

Michonne nodded. "I had a son."

"I'm sorry." He was hesitant to initiate physical contact, but after a moment he reached over and patted her on the knee awkwardly.

Michonne snickered at the gesture.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I'm still getting back into the swing of this human contact thing."

"Keep trying," she smiled. "It's like riding a bike. You'll get there eventually."

"As big of an adjustment as it is, I'm glad I found you guys," he admitted. "Rick was the first decent person I met when this went down. I'm glad to see he's not the only one left."

"Shit!" Abraham yelled from the driver's seat as their car began to sputter. "Out of gas." He slammed his fist on the steering wheel as they came to a stop.

They all got out and went around to meet with the rest of the group, who were now parked behind them on the mostly empty interstate.

"You guys out, too?" Rick asked Sasha as she slammed her door and approached him.

"Almost," she answered. "We can send a few people ahead to siphon what's left from the other cars."

"Probably won't find much," he responded, scratching his scruffy beard, "but it doesn't seem we have many options."

Michonne, Carol, Tyreese and, surprisingly, Gabriel, volunteered to look for gas while the others waited by the cars. Aside from the preacher, they quickly gathered their weapons and the two gas cans they'd managed to find at the house and set off.

Normally Daryl would have volunteered to hunt while they were stopped, but there were no woods to be seen. They'd hadn't yet reached the city, but the area was becoming much less rural the farther they went. He grabbed his bag and sat on the cool pavement, leaning against the SUV.

Rick and Abraham bent over the map they'd stretched over the hood of the car and talked quietly about the rest of their trip while the others conversed amongst themselves.

"Excuse me," an unfamiliar voice called, causing all of them to immediately jump to attention, "which one of you is the leader?"

Rick and Abraham immediately pulled their guns as they turned to see a slim, blonde man with wavy hair and friendly blue eyes approaching their small caravan.

"The fuck do you want?" Abraham barked, and the stranger raised his hands over his head.

"Whoever is calling the shots," he answered, "I'd like to speak with them."

They were all frozen to the spot, unsure of the man. He didn't immediately appear threatening, but they were stunned by his boldness.

"I'm Aaron," he continued, smiling. "I'm unarmed. I'm not here to fight, I seriously just want to talk."

"Where did you come from?" Rick asked, aiming his gun toward Aaron. "Were you watching us?"

He nodded. "Honestly, yes. I was listening just to make sure you all weren't dangerous or anything."

"What do you want from us?" Rick glared at him, searching him over in an attempt to figure out his true intentions.

"I'm here to recruit you," Aaron explained. "We have a settlement. A safe zone with nearly forty people. We'd like for you to join us."


	23. Chapter 23

Rick and Abraham exchanged a look, silently deciding what to do next. Abraham nodded slightly and Rick stepped forward and punched Aaron in the face, his unconscious body falling to the asphalt.

"Just so we're clear," Abraham stated as Rick rubbed his throbbing hand, "that wasn't a 'let's attack this guy' look, it was a 'he seems ok' look."

Rick shook his head and looked up at the sergeant. "I don't care if he didn't have weapons. I don't care if he _looked_ alone. He hasn't survived this long by himself, and people are dangerous. I see someone overly friendly like him and I think of the Governor. That guy was all smiles when we met him, then he tried to kill every last one of us." He looked back down at Aaron. "Help me tie him up."

A few minutes later, Michonne, Carol, Tyreese and Gabriel returned with both of the gas cans full.

"Who's the prisoner?" Michonne asked as she set down her canister and bent to get a better look at Aaron. "He try something?"

"No," Glenn answered. "He says he has a community nearby and wants us to join."

"That sounds familiar," Carol scoffed.

"He's waking up," Carl observed as the stranger began to sit up slowly.

Aaron groaned as he tilted his head upward to look at Rick. "Guess that makes you the leader then," he smiled. "Can I get your name?"

"My name is Rick Grimes," he answered, "and you're going to answer all of my questions, got it?"

Aaron nodded. "Like I said, I'm here to talk. We could have done this without anyone getting hurt, but I get it. It's hard to trust people out here. I don't hold it against you, Rick." He blew a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes as Rick crouched down in front of him.

"Good," Rick replied, "I appreciate that. How many people are in your group?"

"I'm not exactly sure," he answered. "Somewhere in the mid-30s, I think we're still under 40."

Rick scratched his beard, considering his response. "That many? Where are they?"

"In our community," Aaron responded, shifting a little against the rough rope wrapped around his hands. "It's just on the other side of DC, about twenty miles from here."

"So why are you here?" Rick wanted to believe Aaron, but he had no idea why anyone who had that sort of safe zone would bother leaving to talk to strange, possibly dangerous, groups.

"I guess you'd call me a recruiter," he answered. "I've been watching you all for a while, trying to figure out if you'd fit in. You seem like a nice group of people." Rick tensed a bit at the thought of not noticing they were being watched, but he continued to hear Aaron out. "I know you guys are looking for supplies. We've exhausted everything around here, but we have stockpiles of food. We have secure walls. I promise, we have room for all of you. I'm here to invite you to _audition_ for membership."

Rick shook his head, skeptical of his story. "You have a secure community and you wander around out here bringing more people in? What's in it for you?"

"There's a lot of work to be done to maintain what we have," Aaron replied. "I'm sure each of you come with a unique skill set that would enrich our community."

"Maggie!" Their conversation was interrupted by Carl yelling as he rushed toward the brunette and stuck a machete through the head of a walker that had managed to sneak up on her.

She clutched a hand to her heart as she nodded her gratitude to the teenager.

"We need to be more careful," Abraham boomed. "We can't let ourselves get so distracted we let those things sneak up on us-"

"Over there!" Gabriel yelled, pointing toward the edge of the road. A small herd was shuffling over a hill toward them.

"Get in the cars!" Rick ordered as he drew his gun from his hip. Abraham, Daryl, Michonne and Morgan flanked him as the others locked themselves in the vehicles.

"You should get in the van," Michonne whispered to Morgan.

"I can protect myself," he replied as he pulled a pistol from his belt. "Don't worry about me."

"You got a plan?" Daryl asked the leader.

"Let's see just how many walkers we're dealing with. I don't want us to panic and drive in the wrong direction if there's only ten of them."

"Help!" Aaron yelled from the ground. In the chaos the group had forgotten about his presence. "Untie me!" Two corpses shambled toward him as he screamed, and he inched backward as he struggled to free his hands and feet.

"Hold on!" Daryl yelled as he jumped over the hood of the car and lunged toward the man. The others fought against the undead as Daryl worked on the ropes. "You better not be a bad guy," he warned as he freed Aaron's hands, pausing to shoot a geek in the head. He passed his pistol to Aaron before taking off, crossbow raised, to help the others.

Their gunfire echoed throughout the area as they poured the rest of their ammo into the herd, eventually leaving every last one of them crumbled and lifeless on the ground.

"Damn," Rick sighed as he scanned over the bodies, his eyes eventually landing on the pistol-wielding Aaron. Rick quickly shot a look toward Daryl.

"Got caught up in the moment," the hunter shrugged as he walked over and took the gun from the stranger.

He handed it over willingly. "There's no reason to hang onto this thing," Aaron said cheerfully as Daryl shoved the piece back into his belt. "I trust you guys. I'm just looking for a little bit of trust in return. What do you say to my proposal?" He looked hopefully back to Rick.

"You don't miss a beat, do you?" Rick half-joked. "What's the hurry? Is there some sort of deadline for membership?"

Aaron shook his head. "It's just getting late, and it's not safe to set camp here after that shootout."

"We'll sleep in the vehicles," Rick explained, still not eager to follow Aaron. "We'll set a couple of extra people out for watch. Should be fine. You're welcome to stay with us, Aaron, and we'll discuss this in the morning."

"Fuck that," Michonne scoffed, stepping toward Aaron. "I'm going with him. He has a _community_, Rick, food. Shelter. Safety. All he asks is that we pull our weight. I know you don't want to walk right into another Woodbury. I remember that well, _trust me_, but this man is nothing like the Governor. I can tell."

"I just think-" Rick began.

Michonne held up her hand to silence him. "If we let this pass us by, then what are we even doing out here? Do we keep on wandering, starving, being miserable? Is that our goal? He is offering us _exactly_ what we've been looking for. Can't you see that?"

Rick and the others were stunned by her uncharacteristic outburst.

She shrugged as she shifted her pack on her shoulder. "I don't care about anyone else, but I'm going."

"I'm going too," Eugene announced from the window of the SUV.

"Me, too," Tyreese agreed, followed by a few others.

"We'll give it a shot," Abraham nodded, wrapping his arm around Rosita who had appeared at his side.

Rick threw his hands up in frustration. "Did you all think I was going to decide for you? We could have just waited to talk about it in the morning. We really need to think about this."

"What is there to think about?" Morgan asked. "They have food, I'm _starving_."

Rick looked to his son, who simply nodded in response.

"Alright," Rick sighed. "If that's what everyone wants we'll go first thing in the morning. Aaron can stay with us tonight. Let's get some sleep."

At first light the next morning they were off, driving toward what they hoped was sanctuary. Aaron rode in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle with Rick at the wheel.

"We should be close to the city soon," Aaron observed. "Our community is just past-"

He was cut short as Rick slammed on the breaks, flinging him into the dashboard.

"Who the fuck is that?" Rick growled as he threw the van into park and opened his door. He pointed his gun toward a man around Aaron's age with sandy hair who was leaned casually against an ATV parked on the side of the road ahead.

"Hands up!" Rick yelled, and the others joined him in aiming their weapons toward the man. "Tell everyone else to come out now or you die!" he threatened, sure that this was the trap he had suspected all along.

Aaron sprinted ahead of them and stood in front of the other man. "Stop!" he yelled. "He's alone! He's with me."

"Are you fucking insane?" Daryl screamed, lowering his crossbow. "You couldn't tell us about him before? Any more surprises we should know about?"

"This is my partner Eric," Aaron explained. "He's my insurance policy in case you all turned out to be dangerous. You knocked me out and I let it slide, please grant me the same consideration here."

Daryl huffed as he looked Eric over. "One more person steps out of the woods I'm killing everybody."

"We're a two-man operation," Aaron swore. "We move faster that way. It's easier to stay hidden. We were listening in on you guys for a while, but I always go in alone to appear less threatening."

"How'd you spy on us without us ever noticing?" Glenn asked curiously.

Eric reached toward the back of the ATV and pulled out a large directional microphone. "Sound quality isn't great," he answered, "but it gets the job done. It can pick up a conversation from a hundred yards away."

Rick nodded. "Load all of your weapons and supplies into the back of our van. You'll get them back when we arrive safely. Deal?"

"Deal," Aaron and Eric answered in unison.

The group slowly climbed back into their vehicles as Aaron helped Eric gather their things.

"No more overnight trips," Eric smiled, leaning in and pressing his lips to Aaron's. "My nerves can't handle it."

Aaron returned his smile and nodded. "I'm sorry, they just took a little more convincing than most. I couldn't rush them. These people will be great. They're tough as nails, but good at heart. We _need_ them."

A few minutes later they were rolling toward the city, and within a couple of hours they were on the highway amongst exits that lead into DC.

"Why are we stopping?" Carol asked from the back seat of the SUV as they slowed.

Sasha shrugged and put the vehicle in park before stepping out to see what was going on.

Aaron shut his door as he stared out at the distant city ahead of them.

"What's going on?" Abraham asked.

"This is as close as we're going to get to the city," he answered. "It's safer to go around, but I figured we would stop so your people could take a peek."

Hundreds of walkers snarled up at them from beneath the highway bridge where their small caravan was parked.

Rick's stomach lurched at the sheer number of undead. "You built your community near _this_?" he grilled Aaron. "That seems awfully dangerous."

"We've taken precautions," Aaron assured him. "I promise you it's safe."

A whistling noise sounded from the direction of the city and they all turned just in time to see a bright flare shooting toward the sky.

Aaron and Eric immediately jumped into action. "Those are our people," Eric explained. "We send runners into the city, but they only use the flares if they're trapped or hurt."

"Let's go," Aaron said sternly, grabbing his gun from the back of the van.

"Whoa," Rick exclaimed, "I know you need to help your men, but I'm not letting both of you our of my sight. Aaron, your partner can stay here and I'll go with you to rescue your people."

"We don't have time for this," Aaron sighed.

Rick ignored him and pulled out his python to take quick inventory of his ammo.

"Eric will stay here," Aaron announced, realizing there was no way around it. "He can move you guys if things get unsafe."

Abraham volunteered to accompany them as well, and soon the three men were slowly navigating the van through the war-torn streets of Washington DC.

"We're getting close," Aaron said.

Rick shook his head as he took in their surroundings. "Doesn't look good," he sighed. "There's too damn many of them."

"Stop the van!" Aaron yelled abruptly as he pointed ahead. "That's them!"

Abraham slammed on the breaks and Aaron was out in a flash, bolting toward two men, one lying and one sitting on the pavement in front of them.

Rick and Abraham silently posted themselves on either side of the van, keeping watch as Aaron tended to his men.

"Shit, Heath," Aaron exclaimed as he approached the men, "what happened?"

"He tried to jump across the roof top to the pharmacy, but didn't make it," a young black man with thick glasses and a ponytail explained as he pointed to the leg of the bald man who lie in agony on the ground. "He broke his leg and has been fighting passing out since." Heath looked past Aaron, momentarily distracted by the new men. "Who are they?" he asked.

"This is Rick and Abraham," he answered. "They're with me, new citizens. We were on our way back when we saw the flare."

Rick cringed as he stepped closer and got a good look at the man's injury. "That's going to get infected," he observed. "Can you really do anything to help him?"

Heath rolled his eyes as he helped Aaron lift the injured man. "We have three doctors in our community, one of them a surgeon."

"No time to chat, guys," Abraham declared as he shoved away a walker, plenty of others following behind it. "We need to get him in the van right fucking now!"

Heath and Aaron threw the man into the back of the van and quickly slammed the door.

"Abraham," Aaron ordered, "you and Heath drive the bikes back, lead the way. Rick, drive the van and I'll stay back here with Scott."

Without arguing, Abraham and Heath ran back to where the scavengers had left their small motorcycles.

"Fuck!" Rick yelled as he put the van into gear, only to be met with a wall of undead in front of him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He slammed on the gas, but the van only rolled forward a few feet before the soft flesh of the undead under the tires stopped it. Abraham looked back at the vehicle in desperation as he pulled out his gun and began picking off the walkers. It was no use, though, they just kept coming. They poured out of alleyways and store fronts. They came from all directions. Abraham had all but accepted his inevitable demise when the sound of an engine roared toward them, accompanied by the welcome _brakka-brakka-brakka_ of a machine gun.

A large blue pick-up truck barreled toward them, several men with large guns standing in the bed.

"Go!" one of the men yelled to the sergeant. "We'll cover you! Get out of here!"

"Holy shit, am I glad to see them," Aaron declared as Rick gently pushed down on the gas, willing the van to dislodge from the pile of bodies.

"They're with you?" he asked in disbelief as he watched Abraham and Heath speed off ahead of them. A moment later, he breathed a sigh of relief as the van began to roll forward, a path being cleared by the men in the truck.

"They're good men," Aaron assured him. "These are the guys who will be keeping you and your people safe from now on."

Rick drove as quickly as the streets allowed him past the truck and back toward the bridge where the others were waiting. The truck remained a ways behind them, making sure they made it out safely.

When they finally got back to the rest of the survivors, Carl ran to his dad as he climbed out of the van. Rick smiled and pulled his son into a hug.

"What was it like in there, Dad?" the boy asked.

"Chaos," Rick chuckled. "Same as it's ever been."

He released Carl when he heard the familiar rumble of the truck engine approaching, and turned to face them.

"I should thank those guys," he explained, "they really saved-"

He froze at what he saw in the back of the truck in front of him.

"There's no way."


	24. Chapter 24

Tilly's head bounced lightly against the chilled car window as she slept, the motion doing nothing to bring her out of her exhausted slumber. She had driven for a couple of hours and allowed Beth to rest before trading places and finally succumbing to her own fatigue.

Their journey was slow-going, even having the luxury of a vehicle. Their meager supply of gas needed to be conserved as long as possible and they couldn't afford to come up on anything too quickly and wreck, especially in the dark.

Beth glanced over to the redhead as she slept and smiled to herself. Though Tilly was still a stranger to her, knowing she was close to her group made her feel familiar. Since she'd been separated all those weeks ago and thrust into a cruel, unknown environment that feeling was one she craved. She reached over and gently patted Tilly on the knee before turning her attention back to the dark highway ahead.

"Washington, DC- 5 miles" a large green sign announced as she pulled onto a stretch of interstate covered with stalled vehicles. She thought back to the crowded highway near the farm where they had all reunited after their home was overrun, and cleared her throat to chase away the memory of losing Jimmy and Patricia that day.

"Hey Tilly, wake up," she whispered as she gently shook her new friend's arm.

"Hmm?" Tilly startled a bit as she woke. "Everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," Beth smiled. "We made it."

Tilly looked out of the windshield at the dark skyline ahead as Beth slowly navigated between the abandoned cars. The moon illuminated what was once a glittering city, now gone black. She could just make out the silhouette of the Washington Monument ahead of them.

"You think they'll ever build a monument for everyone we lost during this plague?" Tilly asked casually.

Beth shrugged, "Maybe, if things ever go back to normal."

"You don't think they will?"

The girl pushed a wisp of tangled blond hair out of her face before answering. "A long, long time from now, I guess. Right now it all seems too far gone." She paused for a moment as she stopped the car, unable to find an opening big enough for them to drive any farther. "Do you think it's a good idea to go into the city at night?" Beth questioned. "We could just sleep in the car tonight."

"It's not a good idea to go in there at all," Tilly chuckled, "but we can handle the geeks. The night will at least provide us some cover from any people who might be hiding out in there."

"We should find high ground," Beth suggested as she unbuckled her seatbelt and gathered her meager belongings. "We'll be safe from the walkers and have a better vantage point to spot the group."

"Good thinking," Tilly agreed, patting the girl on the shoulder, "and it wouldn't be a bad idea to find some more weapons. We're not going to get very far with just a gun and a couple of knives."

Beth walked ahead of her a bit and tugged on the door handle of a black pickup truck. "We should search these cars as we go along," she suggested, not waiting for Tilly to agree before climbing into the cab and opening the glove compartment.

Tilly automatically stepped beside the vehicle, knife in hand, and began keeping watch of the area as Beth searched. A few minutes later the blond hopped to the pavement and smiled as she held a small pistol.

"Well, look at that," Tilly drawled, holding out her hand and gladly accepting the gun from Beth. The weight of the weapon in her grip was comforting, and it quelled her nerves a bit. "You're really damn lucky, ya know that?" she joked, wrapping her arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Beth grinned and shook her head. "No luck involved," she explained as she nodded toward the back bumper of the truck. "Texas plates. Seemed like a safe bet we'd find some sort of weapon in there."

Tilly couldn't help herself as she threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. Beth joined her, and for just a minute they allowed themselves the release. It wasn't that the situation was particularly hilarious, but Tilly felt all of the pent up emotion she had been holding since she was separated from Daryl and the others boiling over in the form of laughter, and she just couldn't contain it anymore. She imagined the same thing was happening with Beth.

"Ooh," Tilly gasped wrapping her arm around herself as she started to regain her composure. "Oh man, I'm sorry."

Beth raised a hand and shook her head as she too transitioned from laughter to quiet panting. "S'alright. We should move, though."

"Yeah," Tilly agreed breathlessly, quickly checking the amount of ammo in the new pistol before sliding it into her waistband. "We should check a few more of these cars along the way. We're out of water, and some food wouldn't hurt either." The meager rations they'd managed to grab before fleeing the green house had been depleted quickly, and they found themselves with only a small amount of pretzels left for food.

The women worked their way toward the city, occasionally stopping for one of them to search through a car while the other kept watch. Other than a single walker, that Beth handled easily, things were quiet.

"It seems like we should have run into more geeks by now," Tilly observed as she rifled through the small amount of supplies they'd scavenged. "Makes me nervous that someone else has been through here clearing them out."

Beth shrugged. "Maybe they just don't wander this far out of the city."

"Maybe," Tilly mumbled, unconvinced.

She arranged their treasures into small piles. They hadn't managed to find anything edible, but they had come up with two bottles of Tylenol, a roll of toilet paper and half a pack of cigarettes with a lighter.

Beth chuckled as Tilly stared down at the pack of smokes. "You should save those for Daryl, ya know, whenever we find them."

Tilly shook her head. "He's too much of a tough guy to smoke menthols. Think I'll keep these for myself." She slid one out of the pack before sticking the remaining ones in her pocket.

Beth collected the other supplies and stuck them into a hiking backpack she'd found in a jeep as Tilly flicked the lighter and ignited the cigarette. She breathed deeply, allowing the cool, minty smoke to fill her lungs. She smiled as her head immediately began to buzz from the nicotine. "The good thing about starving," she laughed as she exhaled, "is these things are a lot more effective."

She held the smoke out to Beth who shook her head. "Maggie made me try one once," she shared. "I took one puff and spent the next hour puking my guts out behind the stables. She had a helluva time explaining that one to Daddy."

"Fair enough," Tilly grinned. "C'mon, we should get moving."

No more than an hour later the women found themselves through the mass of cars and at the edge of the city. Though no amount of destruction should have affected her after all she'd seen, Tilly still felt the hair stand up on her arms as she took in the sight of the fallen capital. Windows of businesses were either boarded up or busted out. The sidewalks were spotted with dirt and blood, and walkers roamed aimlessly around the streets before them.

"There aren't as many as I thought there'd be," Tilly whispered.

"Not right here, anyway," Beth replied. "Doesn't mean the rest of the city isn't packed with them."

Tilly nodded and pointed toward a nearby fire escape. Beth gave her a slight nod, and knowingly began to head toward the ladder with Tilly following close behind, making sure none of the undead had spotted them.

"Hurry, Beth," she whispered as the younger girl began to scale the metal rungs. Beth picked up her pace, trying her best to keep her footing on the smooth bars as she climbed. Once she had made it a few feet up the ladder Tilly tucked her gun away and followed behind, the walkers only just becoming aware of their presence.

She had gotten a few rungs up when she felt something violently tug at her ankle. She yelped in surprise as she looked down into the decomposing face of the walker who had grabbed her. His bony hands pulled at her leg and his jaws snapped wildly, desperately trying to get a mouthful of her flesh. She kicked as hard as she could, her foot connecting hard with the thing's face, but it didn't let go. She clung to the bars as she fought to get her foot free.

"Tilly!" Beth called from the roof as she noticed what was happening. "There's more coming!"

Tilly's eyes darted around quickly to see that three other biters had seen her and were shambling over to join the party. "Motherfucker," she hissed as she kicked harder, even taking her other foot off the ladder to kick at it's hand as her fingers held all of her weight.

Before she knew what had happened, she felt her hands slip and landed hard on her side. A sharp pain radiated from the spot on her arm where she'd been shot in the pharmacy and she knew she'd reopened the wound, but there was no time to dwell. In the fall, she had managed to shake the walker loose, but she stood to find it and the three others surrounding her.

She pulled out her knife and held it tightly in her left hand and wasted no time grabbing the first walker with her other hand before stabbing it in the eye. She removed it quickly and turned to kick another in the leg, knocking it to the ground, before stabbing a third in the forehead.

She slammed her boot as hard as she could into the rotted skull of the one on the ground until it stopped moving. "Looks like it's just me and you," she huffed as she stared down the one remaining walker within reach.

There were others approaching because of the scuffle, but they weren't close enough to be a threat. She shoved her right forearm into the cheat of the dead woman, ignoring the pain that rippled through it, and stabbed her through her neck and into her brain stem. The corpse fell to the ground with a thud and Tilly wasted no time returning to the ladder and climbing to the roof, her arm screaming in pain with every rung.

"Are you alright?" Beth asked in a panic as she helped her sit down on the building. "Your arm is bleeding! Are you bit?"

Tilly shook her head as she struggled to catch her breath. The lack of food and water had taken a real toll on her energy. "I was shot a few days ago. Daryl stitched me up, but I fucked it up again when I fell."

"We don't have anything to patch it up with," Beth observed as she lightly touched the wound.

"Here." Tilly quickly ripped the bottom of her shirt off and handed it to the girl. Beth took it and tied it tightly around her arm, hoping it would at least stop the bleeding.

"It'll get infected of we don't get it cleaned soon," she observed.

"Then we better hope we find them quickly," Tilly gave her a small, pained smile. "Why don't you look over the edge, see what we can see?"

She nodded and made her way over to the edge of the roof. "Can't see nothin'," Beth sighed as she took a step back.

"We'll have a better view in the morning," Tilly reassured her.  
"Why don't you get some rest."

"You're not going to sleep?" she asked. "Walkers aren't a threat up here. No need to keep watch."

"It's not walkers I'm worried about," Tilly responded flatly. "Far as I'm concerned there's always reason to keep watch."

Beth nodded and pulled her coat tightly around her. "Just for a bit, though, then we'll switch. Neither of us have slept much in days."

"I got a pretty good nap in the car, but maybe I'll catch a cat nap later," she smiled at the blonde. Though that world had forced Beth to mature quickly Tilly still found herself thinking of her as a child, and the need to make sure she had first priority when it came to the essentials, even sleep, was strong within her. She still radiated the innocent sunshine of youth, even through her hardened exterior. She was more concerned with keeping the girl safe and getting her back to Maggie and the others than taking care of herself.

She stared out over the darkened city, just able to make out familiar landmarks in the distance. She'd come there once as a child with the Romero family, and smiled as her mind replayed the memory. Joseph was an apathetic teen at the time and was less-than-impressed by the experience, but she and Lana had been amazed at the teeming metropolis. It was such a contrast to their quaint Kentucky home and they'd stayed up til dawn the day they got back planning how they would move there together someday.

Now here Tilly sat in the place she had once dreamed of living, but without her best friend at her side. She wiped a chilled hand across her cheek as she felt a tear escape her eye and willed herself to focus on the task at hand. She would do what Lana had asked of her and remain strong. She was going to survive, and she'd make sure Beth did as well.

A couple of hours later, as the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon she shook Beth's shoulder gently, careful not to startle her. The blonde's eyes fluttered open and after giving herself a couple of minutes to get her wits about her she assumed her role as lookout while Tilly laid down on the pebbled roof. It didn't take long for sleep to overtake Tilly.

Though she had slept in the car she was still running on only a couple of hours rest over the past few days. Beth ran her fingers through her long hair as she sat on the edge of the roof, working through the tangles before pulling it back into a high ponytail.

As the morning light swept over the city she was finally able to get a full view of the destruction. The street they were on was sprinkled with walkers, but she could see they were much thicker farther into the heart of town. Several buildings appeared singed, the apparent fires extinguished, and the sidewalks were stained red. The dark pavement of the street was carpeted with garbage and viscera. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen, even in that world.

She had only been sitting there for about half an hour when a gunshot echoed in the distance, then another quickly followed "Tilly!" she called, rushing over to wake the sleeping woman.

Tilly shot up, her hand automatically reaching for her gun as her eyes flashed open. "What is it?"

Beth helped her to her feet and led her to the ledge. "Gunshots. Two of them. I think they came from that way," she explained, pointing straight east. No sooner had she pointed, they saw a flash explode in the sky.

"A flare," Tilly said quietly. "There's someone out there signaling for help."

"Do you think it's our group?" Beth asked hopefully.

Tilly shook her head. "I don't know, but whoever it is must be with a larger group if they're sending out a distress call."

"What do we do?"

"We have to find out if it's them," Tilly said as she rushed back to where she had slept to gather her few possessions. "We just have to figure out how to get through all of the geeks. It looked like they were quite a ways away."

A small smirk appeared on Beth's face. "I know what to do. Glenn told me he and Rick had to make their way through a whole mess of walkers in Atlanta once. It's not gonna be fun, but it'll work."

Tilly raised an eyebrow and fought the urge to vomit as Beth explained the plan. "Let me get this straight," Tilly said shakily, "we're going to smear ourselves with walker guts then just go for a nice little stroll through the city?"

Beth chucked a bit and nodded. "The smell is like camouflage. It worked for Rick and Glenn. Michonne used to drag around a pair of them on chains, too, for protection when she was out on her own."

Tilly rubbed her forehead, considering the plan. "I guess I don't have any better ideas, but if I die I'm coming back to haunt you."

"Fair enough," Beth conceded.

Tilly made her way down the ladder to the street first with Beth following closely. "There," Beth whispered, pointing to a male walker Tilly had killed the night before. They each grabbed and arm and dragged the body back into an alley, Tilly keeping close watch to make sure no others had seen them.

"I think we're goo-" she couldn't even finish her sentence when she turned and saw the blonde already had her knife jammed in his sternum. She wiggled it down his torso roughly, exposing all of his organs. "Damn, Greene," Tilly gagged. She normally wasn't squeamish, but that was enough to do it. She squatted down and wretched the little bit of liquid in her stomach onto the pavement.

After a moment, she gathered herself and approached the body. "You good?" Beth asked as her hand hovered over the gore.

Tilly nodded and crouched down beside her. "Don't have much of a choice. We have to hurry." Before she could lose her nerve, she dove her hands into the man's chest and gathered a handful of the mess. She turned her face away as she began smearing it onto her coat.

Beth followed suit, grimacing as the smell reached her nose. The two women worked quickly, putting their disgust aside and allowing their will to survive to take over.

After a few minutes, they were both covered in the rank walker guts. "Alright," Tilly whispered as she examined the two of them, "hopefully this'll do it. We just have to stay quiet. Keep your gun down, but handy."

Beth nodded, and the two of them dared to step out into the street. Tilly was pleasantly surprised when none of the geeks even gave them a second look. They walked quickly across the city, deciding not to run for fear of making themselves obvious.

As they neared the area where the flare had come from the sound of engines and a machine gun echoed through the streets. The walkers that surrounded them all turned toward the noise and began to shamble in that direction.

"Run! Now!" Tilly whispered urgently, taking off in the direction of the noises. A few of the undead turned toward them as the pair bolted past, but none had time to grab them. A few blocks away they rounded a corner and came up on a blue pickup. A large gun was mounted in the back and several men were picking off walkers.

"Survivors!" one of them yelled as he spotted the blood-soaked women. Tilly didn't recognize any of them, and she certainly couldn't tell if they were bad news or not, but they had no other options at that point since they'd been noticed by both them and the undead.

"Put your hands up and come this way!" the man called again. "We'll cover you!" Tilly and Beth ran quickly toward the truck, and were both quickly pulled up into the bed.

"Go!" another guy ordered once they were securely in. He turned back to them roughly. "Weapons," he demanded, and they were in no position to argue. Both of them handed over their guns but kept their knives hidden just in case.

"Where are we going?" Beth asked, worry painted on her face.

"We have a settlement," the young man responded. "We won't hurt you."

Tilly rolled her eyes a bit at that. She'd heard that before and it rarely ended well.

He crouched down beside them and his face softened. "You walk all the way through the city like that?" He gestures toward their viscera-covered clothing.

"Yeah," Beth answered coldly, still unsure of these people. A smile appeared on his face.

"Smart. We could use people like you." He extended his hand for Tilly to shake. "Chris."

"Tilly," she responded as she shook it. "That's Beth. We were separated from our people. We're just trying to find them, so once we get somewhere safe you can just let us out. We won't go to your settlement without them."

Chris nodded. "If that's what you want. We have to meet some of our people just outside of the city, so we can drop you there."

"Thank you," Beth said, offering him a small smile. A few minutes later they found themselves on a large interstate bridge that lead out of the city. It was covered with abandoned cars, but someone had cleared a path big enough for a vehicle to pass through.

"We'll have to find new coats,"Tilly laughed as she removed her ruined one and chucked it into the road. Beth got rid of hers as well and wiped her still-bloodly hands on a rag another of the men, an older gentleman who introduced himself as Rex, had offered.

"They're just ahead," Chris explained, pointing down the bridge where a pair of vehicles sat surrounded by people.

Tilly's eyes grew wide as they came into focus. She grabbed Beth's arm roughly and pointed toward them, unable to believe what she was seeing. "Look!" she announced, barely able to force the word out.

Beth peered over the front of the truck and gasped as she saw the familiar figures ahead of her.

"Everything alright?" Chris asked at their reaction.

"Our family," Beth choked out, her normally strong exterior beginning to crack at the sight of the people she loved most.

As the truck finally pulled up next to the group, Chris smiled as he lead the women to the back of the bed. "Looks like you've got some catching up to do," he smiled, helping them down.

No sooner had their feet touched the ground, Rick was on top of them, his arms wrapped tightly around both of them at the same time. Only a moment later it felt as if they were being smothered as the others crashed into them.

"Group hug!" Tilly called playfully as tears of joy ran down her face. The others laughed, and she looked over to Beth to see Maggie had a death grip on her.

"Oh, Bethy," she cried, "I knew you were alive. I just knew."

As the others let Tilly go and turned their attentions to Beth, she saw Daryl leaned against the SUV, a rare smile plastered on his face.

As ridiculous as she may have looked, Tilly took off at a full sprint, throwing herself into his arms. "Careful, Snow," he chuckled as he caught her, banging against the car in the process.

They stood in silence for another few minutes holding each other. Eventually she pulled back to look him in the face. Her head swam from the pain in her arm and lack of food, but she couldn't wipe the wide grin off of her face.

Daryl's face, however, grew serious as he noticed her blood-stained sleeve. He reached out and touched it gently. "You opened it back up."

"Fell off a ladder," she explained. "Walker grabbed my ankle and dragged me down. I'm fine, though."

He nodded. "We'll get it cleaned up." She looked up and noticed he was staring over her shoulder toward the others.

"Go on," she smiled as she gestured toward Beth.

He squeezed her shoulder and walked toward the younger girl, who had finally pulled away from Maggie. She smiled as she saw him approaching, and in a moment he had her wrapped in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, but Beth just shook her head and looked up at him. "

Stop it," she chastised. "It's not your fault, and I know you looked for me. I'm just fine."

"My fault you got lost though," he argued. "No tellin' what happened to you while you were gone."

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she smiled as she let go of him, "especially once I ran into Tilly. What are the odds, huh?"

"World's a lot smaller nowadays," he replied. "Glad we have you two back."

"You guys seem pretty close," Beth winked as she looked over his shoulder at Tilly who was happily chatting away with Tara and Glenn.

Daryl blushed a bit, but nodded. "She's good to have around."

"Ain't that the truth," Beth agreed.

"Not to interrupt the reunion," Aaron's voice called, "but we need to move. We have an injured man we need to get back."

Rick stepped forward and nodded. "In the cars, guys. We're headed out."

The rest of the group obeyed and piled into the cars, Tilly finding a seat between Daryl and Gabriel in the back of the SUV.

"Glad to see you're alright," the priest said once they were moving.

"Thanks," Tilly answered politely, still unsure of her feelings about him. "So I guess we're going to this settlement afterall?"

Aaron turned around from the passenger seat and nodded. "It's not far, and I guarantee you guys will fit right in. It's nothing fancy, but we have homes, electricity, hot water."

"Be still my heart," Tilly laughed. "I could go for a shower right now."

"Yeah, ya stink," Daryl quipped before getting a solid punch in the arm from the redhead.

"Nice to see you too, Daryl," she muttered.

They spent the rest of the hour-long drive listening to Tilly talk about what had happened after she got separated and how she found Beth.

"So there are people after her?" Rick questioned from the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Tilly answered. "Some giant asshole and a two-face looking dude."

"Negan," Aaron confirmed, shaking his head.

"You know him?" Daryl asked. "He with you?"

"No," Eric responded. "He comes and takes half of our supplies once a month in exchange for our safety."

"You just give all of that to them?" Gabriel questioned.

"Don't have a choice," Eric sighed. "If we refuse there are consequences. We learned that lesson early on."

Rick clenched his jaw, immediately deciding Negan would have to be dealt with if his group chose to stay. His thoughts raced wondering what kind of army that man must have to be able to order other communities around.

Before he could ask, a large wall came into view. An old clock tower peeked above it and an iron gate slowly opened ahead of them.

"This looks familiar," Daryl mumbled, memories of Woodbury flooding his mind. As they pulled inside the gates Aaron directed Rick where to park the vehicle.

"Stay put," Aaron ordered as he exited the climbed out, Eric following him. "We'll inform the others you're here and then get you settled.

He began to shut the door, but quickly turned back around and poked his head back inside the car. "By the way," he said with a smile, "welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone."


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you all for being so patient with the big gap in updates. My laptop kicked the bucket, but I finally bought a new one and am back to the story. I apologize if the formatting in this chapter is extra awful. I'm in a bit of a hurry to post it, but I promise I'll come back and fix it later.**

**Thanks so much for all of your lovely feedback and the follows/favorites. It's all so encouraging, and I appreciate it more than you know.**

**I hope you enjoy! **

"You were awfully quick to agree to this," Glenn observed as he looked over the back of his seat at Michonne. "That doesn't seem like you."

The woman shrugged as she took a drink from a water bottle. "Like to think I'm a good judge of people," she explained, screwing the cap back on and returning it to her pack. "I knew something was off with the Governor from the moment I met the asshole. These people are different. They're like us."

"Are the rest of you ok with this?" Glenn asked the rest of the survivors in his vehicle. "I mean, he just left us here. He could be gathering up his people to attack. We _are_ on their turf."

"If they do, we'll be ready," Tyreese answered, "but I'm with Michonne. I don't get that feeling from the ones we've met, anyway."

Carol sat silently in her seat, quietly observing the community through her window. From where they were parked she couldn't see much, but the place seemed peaceful enough. She turned to face the young, dark-haired girl sitting next to her and gently placed a hand on her knee. "Ashton, you alright, hun?"

The poor girl had only been with their group a couple of day and was being forced to integrate into a new group of people all over again. Carol could sympathize with her struggle. Even though she'd been with them from the beginning, she had been isolated with Ed and Sophia while they were at the quarry. When her husband died, and then Sophia, it felt like she had to adapt all over again.

The girl nodded. "Just nervous," she responded, barely looking up. She began to fuss with the end of the messy braid Carol had tied her hair into the night before.

"That's understandable," Morgan chimed in, leaning over the back of her seat a bit. "I'm a bit skeptical myself, as exciting as a warm bed sounds."

Ashton turned her head and gave him a small smile. "A bed does sound nice," she responded quietly. "Can I stay with you?" she asked Carol.

"Of course," she answered. "I'd like that." Though she was still a little hesitant to get close to another child after she'd lost the girls from the prison she'd promised to protect, not to mention her Sophia, her motherly instincts were undeniable and it felt natural to take care of the girl. They had immediately taken to each other.

A knock on the van's window brought them out of their conversation. Rick stood at the driver's window and Maggie rolled it down so they could talk.

"Get all of your things and come on out," the leader ordered. "The deal is we all have to submit to an interview before they let us in."

"Let me guess," Glenn sighed, "there's also a blood test."

Rick chuckled a bit and shook his head. "This isn't the CDC. They just want to make sure we're alright. I've asked him to allow us to interview in pairs for our peace of mind and he agreed. We'll also be allowed to keep our weapons."

"Wasn't going to let anyone take it anyway," Michonne mumbled as she adjusted her trusty katana on her shoulder.

As both vehicles emptied the group gathered together before splitting into pairs, the exception being Rick who was allowed to keep both Carl and Judith with him. They were then led to the front of a large white home where they were to wait to speak to the leader of the community.

Daryl and Tilly were the first ones to be ushered into the striking house. It looked remarkably pristine for something that existed post-apocalypse. The furniture was clean and well-kempt, framed works of art hung on the walls, and the smell of some sort of food wafted through the air. The place was completely untouched by the horror outside of the walls.

Aaron guided them into a small office at the back of the house. An older, white-haired man sat in a padded chair and stood as they entered, offering his hand. "I'm Douglas Monroe," he smiled at them as they each shook his hand.

"Matilda Snow," Tilly answered politely.

"Daryl," the hunter mumbled. "Daryl Dixon."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Douglas answered formally.

"I know you," Tilly observed as the familiarity of his face suddenly registered. "You were a senator."

"For the great state of Virginia," he replied proudly. "I see you're someone who takes an interest in politics."

Tilly shook her head. "Not particularly. I just kept up with the news."

"How about you, young man?" he addressed Daryl, who scoffed at the statement.

"Nah," he answered. "Never had a TV to watch it."

"That so?" Douglas asked, raising an eyebrow. "What'd you do before all of this?"

Daryl shifted uncomfortably at the question. He knew it was coming, but he always felt like a loser answering. "Whatever it took to survive," he answered vaguely. "Hunted mostly."

"He's the best hunter I've ever met," Tilly offered, noticing Daryl's cheeks flush at the compliment.

Douglas nodded happily. "That would be an excellent asset to our community. Most of our folk are from the city and don't have any experience in that area. Some fresh meat would be nice." Next he turned to Tilly. "What about you, Matilda?"

"You can call me Tilly," she responded. "And I was an electrician. Odd jobs, mostly, but I was pretty good. Can't say that skill has served me well since the world went dark, though."

"Well, it'll be a great help here," he replied. "We operate on a power grid that was put in place long ago just in case something of this nature were ever to happen. It will be nice to have someone to help with any repairs that arise."

"I'm glad to help with anything you need," she agreed, excited at the prospect of doing what she loved once again.

"Now, I have to ask," he began seriously, "what is your relationship to the rest of the group? Is there anything I should know?"

Daryl was surprised the stranger expected them to give up so much information about their group. If they had any deep, dark secrets he wasn't just going to lay them out on the table.

Luckily, Tilly took over answering the question. "Daryl has been with them since the beginning, in Atlanta. They saved me and two of my friends from some cannibal assholes back in Georgia several weeks ago and I've been with them ever since."

"Your friends, are they still with you?" Douglas asked cautiously.

Tilly shook her head, managing to keep her composure. "No," she answered. "One of them was killed as we were escaping the day they found us, the other was bitten not long ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said sincerely. "Do you have any relations within the group?" he asked Daryl.

"We're all family," he answered bluntly. "But I was with my brother when it all started. He was killed a while back by some asshole who ran a place just like this."

Douglas could see the hunter was more than skeptical of Alexandria. "I assure you there won't be any murdering here," he said firmly. "We only kill if we're threatened."

"That's the way our group operates as well," Tilly replied. "But you have to understand we're a tightly knit crew. We'll do anything to protect our own, so if you all are planning to harm any of us in any way, shape, or form, I'd suggest you reconsider."

"Because you'll lose," Daryl completed her thought.

"Noted," Douglas nodded, a look of mild amusement on his face. "I think you two will fit in just fine here. If you'll go back out the way you came in Holly will be waiting to show you to your new home."

"Home?" Tilly answered, surprised. "We'll be sharing one?"

Douglas put a hand to his forehead in mild embarrassment. "Pardon me, I thought you two were together. I apologize for assuming. I'll make sure to let her know you'll be needing separate-"

"No," Daryl cut him off, "we'll stay together." He glanced over at Tilly who raised an eyebrow in confusion, but nodded.

"Very well, then," the older gentleman said, standing. "Get settled and you'll be given your work assignments the day after tomorrow. We like to give newcomers a couple of days to assimilate before we put them to work." He winked at Tilly as she and Daryl turned to leave and she rolled her eyes once her back was to him.

Outside, they were met by a tall, blonde woman who looked to be in her early 40s. She wore her light hair in a short bob, and her face was still beautiful despite slight signs of aging.

"You must be Holly," Tilly addressed her, offering her hand.

"I am," she smiled as she pulled out a clip board, running her finger down a list Tilly couldn't quite read. "Matilda and Daryl, correct?" she asked.

"It's Tilly, actually," the redhead said politely, "but that's us."

Holly nodded as she made note of her preferred name on her sheet of paper. "Your house will be on the east side of the zone."

"Who will we be sharing the house with?" Tilly pressed, though she didn't care much as long as she got a bed.

"It will just be the two of you," Holly answered, causing both of the other survivor's eyes to widen. "Your house will be between," she glanced down at her clipboard, "Rick and his children's and Glenn and Maggie's."

"Works for me," Tilly answered, no longer listening to the woman but instead studying the town as they passed through. Small, but nicely maintained, homes lined the narrow streets. Several people strolled about casually, and she even saw some children playing basketball on an asphalt court. Many of them took a moment to look over the newcomers, but quickly offered a friendly nod or wave. They didn't seem menacing in any way, just curious.

A few minutes later Holly stopped in front of a small, two-story home. The siding was light blue, and white shutters flanked the windows, their paint only just beginning to peel. It had a modest front porch, complete with a pair of lawn chairs.

"Here you are," Holly smiled as she gestured toward the home. "Number 45. I apologize that it's so far on the edge, but we thought your group would want to stay close to each other and this was our largest cluster of houses."

"Don't apologize," Tilly said as she stared at her new home. "Thanks, Holly."

Holly patted Tilly on the shoulder as she went to leave, heading back to lead the next pair of survivors to their new quarters.

Though her mind still warned her that nothing in that world was permanent, Tilly couldn't help but allow herself to get excited as she bounded up on the front porch of the blue house and pushed the door open.

The inside of the home was plain, the furnishings very simple, but in that moment it seemed like a four-star hotel. Wooden floors sprawled throughout the home, including the small kitchen that sat just off the living room. A dining table, just large enough for two people, sat against a wall. The living room held a love seat and a large dark brown recliner, each facing toward the picture window that looked out over the porch. Upstairs they found a bathroom, complete with a bath tub and shower, and a large bedroom.

_Bedroom. Singular. _

"Can I ask why you wanted to stay with me?" Tilly asked, turning to Daryl as he wandered around the bedroom and took a seat on the green and white quilt that lay over the queen-sized bed. "I mean, if I had to choose anyone to live with it'd be you, but you're the kind of guy who likes his privacy."

"Didn't like the idea of you staying alone," he answered simply. "Don't know these people yet, and I don't think any of us should let our guard down."

They both knew she could have just as easily lived with Beth or Tara, but Tilly knew better than to push it. No matter his reasoning, she was glad to have him close.

"I'll take the couch," he said as he stood and pulled his pack onto his shoulder.

"Oh, stop being polite," Tilly laughed. "We've slept together, Dixon, unless you've forgotten. Surely we can, ya know, _sleep_ together. Long as ya don't steal the covers, anyway." Her grin grew as his cheeks flushed.

He silently removed his pack again and sat it on the floor as she made her way over to where he stood. Tilly reached both her hands around his waist and held her face near his, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"I missed you, ya know," she said softly. "I was worried I'd die without ever finding you, but somehow I knew that wouldn't happen."

"I shouldn't have left ya to begin with," he replied, shame dancing behind his eyes.

"It worked, didn't it?" she said firmly. "We all got out of there alive, and now we're back together. We got Beth, too, so I'd say that makes it all worth it."

He knew she was right, but as usual he was having a difficult time forgiving himself.

"How'd you get out of there?" he asked. "You told us how you found Beth, but not how you got away from that douchebag in the cabin. When we got there the place was blazin', no sign of you anywhere and walkers crawling all over the place."

Tilly smirked at the question. Truth be told, she was pretty proud of how she'd gotten out of that one. "I busted an oil lamp over his head and turned the fucker into a human sparkler."

"That's my girl," he laughed, not thinking before uttering the words.

Tilly knew better than to press the issue, but her heart fluttered a bit at the sentiment. Just that morning she'd been covered in walker guts and now she was standing in her new home with Daryl Dixon in her arms.

_Wait, guts,_ she remembered, suddenly disgusted with herself. _I've been walking around this place reeking like the dead._

"Shower," she said simply, turning away and bolting toward the bathroom in search of the hot water she was promised.

As she left the room Daryl chuckled to himself. He'd been so caught up in the moment he'd completely ignored the fact that she still smelled like shit. He decided to busy himself with putting his small collection of clothing in the drawers of the dark wooden dresser that sat on his side of the bed.

_My side of the bed,_ he thought. _Which means the other is _her_ side of the bed. Our bed. Oh, shit. _

While he paced the bedroom nervously at his revelation, Tilly was in a state of complete bliss as she stood under the shower head letting the nearly scalding water wash off weeks of grime. She had found the small bathroom pantry stocked with all of the necessary toiletries, and she relished the feel and smell of the floral-scented conditioner as she coated her long hair.

She lingered in the shower until the water ran cold before stepping out and wrapping herself in a large blue towel. She looked around the bathroom for a moment before realizing in her hurry to hop in the shower she'd forgotten to grab clean clothes out of her bag. She knew that stepping out and walking to the bedroom in just a towel was a sure-fire way to completely mortify Daryl, and judging by the number of times she'd seen his cheeks turn red that day she figured he'd had enough embarrassment for the time being.

Instead, she opted to do something she'd seen Lana's mom do to her husband more than once: She yelled at him to bring her things.

"Daryl!" she called through a crack in the door, clinging tightly to the towel wrapped around her chest. "Daryl! I need your help!"

She should have chosen her words more carefully, because in typical Daryl fashion he came running with his crossbow in hand. "What?" he called back as he reached the bathroom door. "You alright?"

She laughed at the sight of his readiness to take on whatever danger she may have been facing. "I'm fine," she smiled. "Just naked. I forgot to grab clean clothes."

"You got more in your bag?" he asked, lowering his crossbow and shaking his head at the sight of her drenched head poking out of the door. He was careful not to stare as her bare shoulders glistened in the daylight that shone into the hallway.

She thought carefully, unsure of what she had left after all of her misadventures. "I know I grabbed some underthings from the house where Beth and I hid. There's a pair of shorts in there too, I think."

Daryl sighed as she continued to take her time recalling what she may or may not have. "I'll find ya somethin'," he replied impatiently before making his way back to the bedroom and unzipping her small bag.

He had never been as uncomfortable as he was as he pulled a black bra and pair of underwear out and laid them on the bed. He also found the pair of shorts she'd mentioned as well as a pair of leggings and a thin, green t-shirt. There were no other clothes to be found in her bag.

_Too damn cold for shorts and a t-shirt. Think she'd be smart enough to grab something warmer. _

He threw the useless summer outfit aside and held onto the leggings before retrieving a long-sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of socks from his dresser and sliding them to her through the small opening she left in the bathroom door.

"Thank ya!" she called as she accepted the stack of clean clothing happily. She pulled on her underthings and the thick, black leggings and smiled as she buttoned his flannel and pulled on the long, grey socks.

She returned to the bedroom a few minutes later and found him lying on the bed flipping through a copy of _The Odyssey _he'd found on a bookshelf in the corner of the room. He looked up at her as she entered.

"I look like a lumberjack," she laughed as she pantomimed swinging an ax over her shoulder.

"I ain't ever seen a lumberjack looked like that," Daryl answered, unable to keep his eyes from traveling all over her. She'd left the top couple of buttons on the shirt undone, and though her small chest didn't allow for much cleavage, it was still enough to intrigue him. The leggings clung tightly to her long legs, and her wet hair was starting to curl a bit as it began to dry.

Tilly walked over and took a seat on the bed, facing him and crossing her legs in front of her.

"I wanted to stay and look for ya," he began, continuing the conversation from earlier she'd tried to end. "We got run off by a herd, though. I wanted to go back, but Rick said we couldn't risk it."

"Rick was right," she said firmly. "You couldn't put the whole group in danger for just me. I understand the notion, though. I'd have wanted to go back for you, too."

"Why would you do that?" he asked earnestly. No matter how often she'd told him, he still didn't realize how highly she thought of him.

"Cause I'd miss ya too much if you were gone," she replied. "Did you miss me?" She knew the answer already. It was obvious from the way he'd been so happy to see her on the bridge and the way he'd quickly volunteered to live with her, even though it was way outside of his comfort zone. She just wanted to hear him say it.

He nodded and stared down at his hands. "Course I did," he admitted. "Missed ya real fucking bad."

"I was only gone a couple of days, ya know," she said as she moved to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him against the headboard, the sides of their bodies touching.

"Too long for my liking." He reached over and took her smaller hand in his large, rough one, intertwining his fingers with hers. For a moment even he was surprised at the gesture, but with her he knew he didn't need to feel awkward about it.

Tilly squeezed his hand gently before pulling it to her lips and slowly placing a light kiss on each of his knuckles. He squirmed a bit at her touch, a rush of unfamiliar feelings pouring over his body. They'd already gone all the way physically, but he knew it went beyond that. He wanted her. It wasn't just her body he desired, though he most definitely did appreciated it too, but he wanted to be hers, and for her to belong to him as well.

It seemed like forever ago that she had let him know she wasn't going to pressure him into any kind of commitment, but as time passed he became more comfortable with the idea of having her beside him. He wanted to keep her there forever.

He released her hand and rolled onto his side to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her to face him. He stared into her dark blue eyes, and allowed himself to get lost for a moment as he worked up the courage to tell her how he felt.

"I'm glad I'm here," she whispered as she lay with her face only inches from his, "with you."

"Yeah." He couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face. He was more than _glad_ to be there, he was elated.

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, and as she pulled away he caught an intoxicating whiff of her freshly washed hair. He inhaled deeply, committing the scent to memory. A moment later, his hand brushed across the soft skin of her cheek before coming to rest behind her neck.

She expected him to pull her in and kiss her, but instead he began to speak, something that was often uncharacteristic of him.

"I, uh," he paused for a moment, and Tilly could see the nervousness and sincerity behind his eyes.

"It's alright," she encouraged softly. "Whatever you need to say, you know you can be honest with me."

He nodded slightly before continuing. "I want you to be _with _me," he said, so quietly she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "My girl, I mean."

"You sure about that?" she asked, surprised the words had come from the normally reserved hunter. "I mean, I'm a giant pain in the ass. I've got a temper, I do stupid shit and get myself in tro-"

She was silenced as he slammed his mouth onto hers.

"And ya talk to damn much," he said, pulling back for a moment, "but I meant it. If ya don't wanna-"

"No," she smiled, "I do. I want to be."

Excitement sparked through him, and though he was sure he looked like an idiot schoolboy smiling ear-to-ear, he didn't give a shit. He knew he didn't have to put on a tough exterior with her. He pulled her back to him and in a moment they were lost in each other, the afternoon passing in a flurry of passion and tangled sheets.

No one bothered them until early evening when Glenn came knocking at the front door.

"Howdy, neighbor," Tilly greeted him as she opened the front door, her hair pulled up in a messy bun and Daryl's flannel shirt still hanging loosely on her shoulders.

Glenn chuckled at the sight of her, but it wasn't until Daryl appeared behind her, his nearly chin-length hair sticking out in all directions, that he broke into full-on laughter. "Seems ya'll are enjoying your new place," he joked as he caught his breath.

Daryl shot him an annoyed look, but Glenn had taken enough crap from him when he'd been sneaking around the prison with Maggie that he was glad to be able to dish it back.

"You here for a reason, or just to chat?" Daryl asked grumpily.

"Aaron wanted us all to meet him for dinner," he explained. "Maggie and I are heading over there in a few minutes if you guys want to come with."

"Yeah," Tilly nodded, interested in hearing anything Aaron may have to say about the workings of the settlement. "We'll meet you guys back out here in ten."

Glenn nodded and made his way back over to the yellow house next door, Maggie waving from the front porch. Tilly returned the gesture before making her way inside to get freshened up. She dug through her bag for clothes, only to remember that her only warm set was still dripping with walker goo. She sighed and buttoned the top couple of buttons on the flannel, doing her best to make it look presentable, before shaking her hair out and letting it fall into long waves.

_It's funny how my idea of 'getting dressed to go to dinner' has changed._

She shrugged at her reflection in the full-length mirror that sat in the corner of the room before turning to Daryl, who had already smoothed his hair down and was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her. She walked over to him and stood between his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head to rest against her chest.

"Do we have to go?" she sighed, suddenly just wanting to stay in bed with him, as she leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"We do if we want to learn anything new about this place," he answered.

"Always the responsible one," she teased before begrudgingly making her way to the front door, Daryl following behind.


	26. Chapter 26

The group met Aaron and Eric for dinner in an old community center. The large banquet hall held two long fold-out tables, placed end-to-end to make one long one, and they were covered with dark blue table cloths. Bowls of food were placed down the center of the tables with a plain, white plate at each setting.

As they filed in and chose their seats they talked amongst themselves, discussing their new living arrangements and the other survivors they had met.

"Who'd they stick you with?" Tilly asked Tara as she took a chair next to the brunette, Daryl settling in on her other side. The other woman appeared to be freshly showered, like Tilly, and was sporting a clean, gray button-up shirt and jeans, her short hair hanging loose around her face.

"Beth, thankfully," Tara smiled. "I was worried I'd end up with Eugene. Can you imagine? There'd be mullet hair all over the shower, and I just couldn't handle that."

Tilly threw back her head and laughed. "You'd never be able to bring a woman home either," she added. "He'd probably be watching through the crack under the door."

Tara lightly punched her in the arm, her nose crinkling up in disgust, which only made Tilly laugh harder.

To her right, Daryl was leaned toward Rick, the two of them talking quietly.

"What's the meeting all about?" Daryl questioned, his face locked into his trademarked scowl.

"Aaron's supposed to give us our job assignments," he answered, leaning down momentarily to pick up a spoon Judith dropped on the floor. "I'm sure he'll go over the rules of the place, but I figure most importantly this is our chance to ask questions."

"Like what the hell they're doing giving away half of their shit to a bunch of thugs?" Daryl spat.

Rick nodded. "We'll also need to address the situation with those people and Be-"

"Excuse me," Aaron interrupted, gaining the attention of the room. "Feel free to help yourselves to whatever you'd like, and I'll fill you in on your assignments as you eat."

The survivors didn't need to be told twice, and began passing around the bowls of food and spooning it onto their plates.

"God," Tilly mumbled, "am I glad to see this spread. I think Beth and I had a handful of pretzels between us over the past couple of days."

"Why didn't you say something?" Daryl asked seriously. "You been sitting around here starving all day."

"Clearly, I've survived," she chuckled. "To be honest, I was a little preoccupied earlier. Food didn't even cross my mind." She winked at him, and his face grew noticeably red.

"Shut up and eat something," he mumbled. She smiled smugly as she began poking at her plate, satisfied she'd gotten a rise out of him.

"What kind of meat is this?" Tilly asked Daryl as she held up a fork-full of something pink and grainy.

"People meat," he answered seriously, shoving a bite of it into his mouth.

"Smartass." She rolled her eyes and shoved the substance off her fork and back onto her plate.

Daryl chuckled and nudged her with his shoulder. "It's Spam," he answered. "You never had it? If Merle hadn't taught me how to hunt that's probably all the protein we'd have had growing up."

"I try to avoid salty meat from a can," she replied. "But I guess I can't be too picky nowadays." She begrudgingly stabbed the Spam with her fork again and took a bite, her nose turning up slightly as she chewed.

"Ya look like ya just smelled a fart," he laughed.

"That's exactly what this tastes like." She quickly shoveled a scoop of peas into her mouth to chase away the taste.

"Don't worry," he said assuredly, "I'll go out and find us some real meat soon as I can get outta here."

She smiled at that. The idea of fresh game was much more appealing than the farce that sat on her plate.

"In the meantime," he continued, "you should go ahead and choke that down. After that long without food you need the protein."

"Protein, protein, protein," she mocked in a faux-deep voice. "Always with the protein. I'll stick to vegetables til you bring us in something that's not just ground up hooves and pig assholes."

They continued their banter for a few more minutes, both with each other and the people that sat around them. Tilly was glad to have some time to talk with Tara. She reminded her a little of Lana, and the fact that those two had been friends as well was comforting.

Eventually Aaron went to stand at the head of the table, a clipboard in his hands, to give them their assignments.

Tilly was put on the building crew along with Abraham and Tyreese. She was glad to be given a job where she could help physically fortify the community, and Aaron informed her she that if any electrical problems arose she would be pulled from her duty working on the walls to take care of them.

Daryl was made the head of the crew that would be going out to hunt. They had several willing hunters within the safe zone, but none of them possessed his set of skills. He'd initially insisted on going out alone, but even Rick agreed that wasn't a good idea.

Rick was added to their small, make-shift police force, and after some begging Carl was allowed to tag along with his father and train to become an officer as well.

The others were given assignments ranging from working in the garden to watch duty.

"Glenn," Aaron began, "with one of our runners out of commission I'd like you to accompany Heath on supply missions. I know it's one of the most dangerous jobs, so if you're uncomfortable with that I can find other work for you."

Glenn grinned, satisfied with his placement. "That's always been my role within our group, anyway. It's fine with me."

"Who's left?" Aaron asked to himself, checking over his notes.

"That'd be me," Eugene responded, raising his hand above his head.

"Ah, yes, Eugene," the blonde man nodded, "you'll be part of our research team. You'll report to Thomas in building 17. He's working on a way to build a mill so we can begin making flour, bread and the like."

"Oh my God, bread," Maggie sighed, causing the rest of them to laugh.

"If you're done," Rick spoke up, breaking the mood, "I have a few questions."

"Of course," Aaron replied, settling his clipboard against his chest. "What would you like to know?"

"I want to talk about these people you're turning your supplies over to." Rick wasn't going to beat around the bush on that. He wanted answers.

Aaron looked a little nervous, obviously displeased at the topic, but nodded for him to continue.

"From my understanding, these guys-"

"The Saviors," Eric chimed in. "They're called the Saviors."

"The _Saviors_," Rick continued, snarling at the presumptuous name, "they've threatened to harm you if you don't provide for them. It's the same for other communities in the area, correct?"

"There's only one other major settlement, the Hilltop, near us, but there are a few smaller ones," Aaron answered, "and yes, they have the same arrangement."

"What is it about them that has you so scared?" Rick pried.

Aaron cleared his throat before answering. "Initially, we refused. I mean, why would anyone agree to that willingly? He sent one of his men with a truck in the middle of the night and drove it through the back wall. By the time we could get to it, biters were already pouring in. We're lucky we didn't lose more people than we did."

Concern played on the faces of everyone at the table. It all sounded too similar to when the Governor showed up and ran down their gates.

"He has a lot of men," Aaron continued. "Probably seventy-five or so, certainly more than us, and they're not _good_ men. Negan, their leader, he's perfectly reasonable and trustworthy if you do what he says, but he's not one to let a transgression go unpunished."

"Have you thought of joining forces with the Hilltop to put a stop to this?" Tilly asked.

"If we tried, it wouldn't go over well," he explained. "It'd mean going to war."

"We've done it before," Daryl mumbled, loud enough for only Rick to hear.

"I understand your hesitation there," Rick assured him, "but we do have a little bit of an issue with him ourselves."

"Yes, Beth," Aaron nodded knowingly, and her face turned red at the mention of her name. "You believe he's still after her?"

"We know he is," Tilly answered for him. "He was searching for her when she and I ran into each other. We managed to shake him, but it was close. The way you've described him, I doubt it'd end well for her if he found out she was here."

"It wouldn't end well for any of us if he knew that we hid her from him intentionally," Eric replied, his face grim. "I think this is an issue you should take to Douglas."

"I don't want to be any trouble," Beth piped up. "I don't want to put anyone else in danger. I can just leave, find somewhere else to stay where he won't find me."

"Bullshit, Beth," Tilly said firmly. "You know better than to think any of us would let that happen. I'll go talk to Douglas," she volunteered.

"I'll come with you," Rick offered, and she nodded in appreciation.

"He should be home now if you want to go over after you've finished your meal," Aaron explained, and in unison Tilly and Rick both pushed away their plates and stood from the table.

"You good to go?" she asked Rick, secretly a little sad to leave behind the plate of vegetables in front of her, but determined to ensure Beth's safety.

Rick nodded, and the two of them exited the building and made their way toward the leader's house.

"How should we approach this?" she asked the older man as they slowly made their way down the street. She knew what she _wanted_ to say to Douglas, but she valued Rick's ability to strategize.

"We'll just be honest, explain the situation to him," he replied. "If he doesn't agree to keep her presence a secret, I don't know…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

"Then we'll have to leave," Tilly finished for him. "It'd suck, but I don't think anyone would hesitate to leave here for the sake of her safety. I mean, you all just got her back. No one will want to lose her again."

Rick nodded, scratching his beard with a rough hand. "Might lose Abraham's group if it comes down to that, probably Gabriel, too."

Tilly couldn't stifle her laugh. "How would we ever get along without Father Screams-and-hides? Losing Abraham and Rosita would be huge, but we'd manage."

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

By that time, they had reached the steps of the stately white home. Tilly thought that it looked like it belonged on a plantation rather than on the outskirts of a big city. A few lights shone through the sheer curtains, letting them know he was home. The pair climbed the stairs and Rick pounded firmly on the door while Tilly wrung her hands, a little nervous about how the situation might shake out. She was willing to do whatever it took to keep her friend safe, but she was in no hurry to give up her new home.

A few seconds later the door opened with a faint creak and the white-haired leader appeared in front of them.

"Rick, Tilly," he smiled, "what a pleasure to see you both. Is there something I can do for you?" His voice held a fake air of politeness, undoubtedly perfected throughout his years in the Senate.

"If you have a moment," Rick began, "we have an important matter of safety we need to discuss with you."

"Of course," Douglas nodded, stepping aside to allow them access to the house, "come on in and have a seat." He led the two into a small sitting room to the left of the entryway. They took a seat beside each other on a small, formal loveseat as Douglas approached a silver serving tray in the corner of the room and poured two glasses of whiskey, offering them to the newcomers.

"Thank you," Tilly smiled as she took the glass, and Rick nodded his appreciation.

"Now," Douglas encouraged as he poured his own glass and sat in an armchair across from them, "what can I do for you?"

Rick cut right to the chase. "We've discussed the issue of your relationship with the Saviors with Aaron, and he informed us of your arrangement."

"Ah," Douglas sighed, taking a sip of the amber liquid, "yes, it's not an ideal situation obviously, but we do whatever is required to protect our people."

"Funny you should say that," Tilly cut in, "because that's exactly what we'd like to discuss."

The old man's eyebrows raised a bit at her forwardness and brash tone, but he gestured for her to continue.

"When I found Beth she'd been separated from our group for weeks," she explained. "She was being pursued by a big dark-headed guy, Negan, and one of his cronies. We hid out in a nearby town and Beth explained to me that she'd been kidnapped back in Georgia and was brought up here to be traded to the Saviors by another community."

"I, uh," Douglas fumbled, "I'm sorry to hear about that, but she was unharmed?"

"If you'd call being forced into slavehood as one of his _wives_ 'unharmed,'" she responded sharply, "then yes. She managed to steal a car and ram it through their fences. I found her not long after, then he wound up finding us. We were able to get away and make it into the city, but we have every reason to believe he's either still looking for her, or would at very least seek vengeance if he ever came across her again."

"You want to ensure she's protected," Douglas injected knowingly.

"Exactly," Rick confirmed, unable to read the other man's expression.

"I'm going to be honest," the Senator began, leaning forward a bit in his chair, "it would end badly for my people if he found out we knew about her being here and hid it from him. I don't think you understand what he's capable of."

"We have an idea," Rick replied. "We've dealt with similar men and survived. He should be more concerned with what _we're_ capable of."

"I'd never doubt your capabilities, Rick," he replied. "I have great faith in the competence of your people. You're a tough bunch, but his group is large. Very large. And they have no issue performing whatever kind of evil he orders if he doesn't get his way."

"So what are you saying exactly?" Tilly questioned, gulping down the last bit of whiskey in her glass, the liquid giving her more courage. "You're going to tell him she's here to save your own ass?" She was nearly yelling. "She's a _kid_, Douglas. A _kid_," she stressed, and Rick gently laid a hand on her knee, reminding her to keep her wits about her even though anger bubbled inside him as well.

Douglas shook his head as he rose to refill Tilly's glass, the redhead quickly emptying the second drink as well. "I don't know what I'm saying, to be honest," he answered truthfully as he took his seat again. "You've put me in a tough spot."

"I'll make it simpler for you," Rick injected firmly, leaning forward to match the Senator's posture. "You're going to assure me you'll keep her presence a secret, or our group will be leaving."

Douglas sat back in his chair, rolling his glass between his fingers as he thought for a few minutes.

"Ok," he began, "but the responsibility falls to you to make sure she's hidden when his people come. If he sees her, there's nothing I can do. Fair?"

Tilly and Rick both nodded.

"We can handle that," Rick confirmed as he rose and extended his hand to the older man. "We appreciate your help."

"Don't make me regret it," he responded, standing as he shook Rick's hand. "The Saviors are due the day after tomorrow to collect the month's supplies. Make sure she stays in her house. You can take her meals and she'll be excused from work for the day."

"Thank you," Tilly smiled before following Rick toward the door.

Douglas patted the woman on the shoulder as he held the door open for them to exit. "Now, you two have a good night," he said politely before closing the door behind them.

"That went alright," Tilly sighed as they made their way back toward their houses, her head buzzing a bit from the alcohol.

"It's not a permanent solution, though," he replied. "We need to take him out."

"You sure we can handle it?" Tilly asked, her heart pounding a bit at the idea of _war_.

Rick smiled confidently. "Has Daryl ever told you he took out a tank?"

"A _tank?_" she chuckled.

"A tank," he confirmed. "Ask him about it sometime. My point is, we can handle it. We have to. I'd like to meet with everyone tonight to discuss all of this. Think you could round them up and have them meet at my place?"

"You got it, boss," she responded with a fake salute, drawing a smile from him before heading off to collect the others.

A while later the last of the group finally trickled into the living room of the Grimes family's home. A few of them bunched closely together on the large sofa and a couple of chairs while the others made themselves comfortable on the floor. Judith chirped sleepily from a playpen in the corner of the room while Tyreese cooed at her softly.

The large man had grown close to the child during their time after the prison, and it was clear he had a special place in his heart for the blue-eyed little girl. Sasha smiled at her teddy bear of a brother as she watched the two interact. Her heart was still heavy from the loss of Bob, but moments like that allowed a bit of happiness and hope to seep back into her.

Ashton sat in front of Carol on the floor, the older woman playing with her dark hair absently as she chatted with Michonne and Morgan. Daryl talked quietly with Beth, and Rick and Tilly stood in the kitchen discussing how to go about filling in the rest of the group. She insisted he let her lead the conversation and he obliged, leading her back into where the others sat.

"There are some things we need to discuss," Tilly announced, loud enough to get the attention of the room. "Rick and I just got back from speaking with Douglas about the situation with Negan."

"He gonna stop giving that prick half of our shit?" Daryl spat. "I ain't going out hunting just to pass most of it off to a bunch of perverts."

"No," she replied, a bit of anger playing in her voice. "Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be an option for him, but he agreed to keep Beth's presence here a secret. It's on us to make sure she stays out of sight when the Saviors are here, though."

Rick stepped forward, patting Tilly lightly on the lower back to let her know he would handle it from there. "He's afraid Negan will retaliate if he finds out Douglas knew he was looking for her and hid her anyway, so we need to be diligent about making sure she stays in her house, and that we don't mention her name when he's here."

"Seems easy enough," Beth said quietly, a bit embarrassed at the fuss that was being made over her.

"Here's the thing, though," Tilly chimed in, her face serious, "Rick and I have been discussing it, and we think something needs to be done about this situation with the Saviors. These people are clearly too chicken shit to deal with it, but we just aren't comfortable with risking our people to go out and gather supplies just to give them away."

Rick nodded. "We aren't going to live under the thumb of anyone else," he said firmly. "We've done it before. Most of you remember what that was like, and I won't stand for it happening again."

"What's the plan?" Michonne asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees as she listened intently.

"I'm not sure yet," Rick replied. "Negan and his men are supposed to be here the day after tomorrow to pick up the supplies. Beth will be excused from her duties and will be laying low, but the rest of us need to take the opportunity to learn everything we can about these guys."

"So we're gonna chat 'em up?" Morgan questioned. "Make friends?"

Tilly nodded in confirmation. "We do whatever we need to do to gain information about them. The people here are pretty tight-lipped, and all we have to go on is what Beth saw while she was there. Don't be fake. I'm sure he's smart enough to see right through that. Just do your best to seem eager and trustworthy."

"We're not going to rush this," Rick added. "It will take us a little while to gather the information we need, but we're going to eliminate this threat if we're going to stay here."

"Why rock the boat?" Eugene piped up from where he sat against the arm of the couch, drawing stares from everyone in the room. For a moment he seemed to regret speaking up, but continued anyway. "I mean, things are pretty good here even with half the supplies being given away. I don't see any need to get involved."

"Then you can sit on your pasty ass and stay out of it," Michonne said harshly, feeling no pity for the cowardly man as he lowered his head. "I'm not sitting around living in fear of this asshole. I'll kill him myself if I get the chance." Memories of what the Governor had done to Andrea and Hershel flashed in her brain, and though she had never met Negan she wasn't going to waste any time eliminating a threat if it meant ensuring nothing that heinous happened to anyone else in the group.

"Well," Tilly smirked, "seems like Michonne's in. Everyone else good?"

The others nodded, some more hesitantly than others. Eugene just continued to hang his head, knowing his opinion was in the minority.

Rick clapped his hands together in satisfaction as he continued to elaborate on the plan. "Tilly," he turned to the redhead beside him, "since you're on the building crew you'll most likely be near the gates when they arrive. I want you to be the one to speak to Negan. It'd seem suspicious if Abraham or I started chatting him up, but I think you could pull it off."

She was taken aback for a moment at the enormous task he was trusting her with, but she swelled a little internally with pride. "You want me to dazzle him with my sparkling personality? I can handle that," she agreed. She glanced over to Daryl, his scowl even deeper than normal.

"The rest of you," Rick continued, "talk to his men. See if you can find out how many of them there are, whether they have other outposts, anything else useful. We'll meet here that night after dinner and see if we have enough information to come up with a solid plan."

"Sounds good, boss," Tilly smiled uneasily, put off a bit by the look Daryl was giving her. "We should all go get some sleep. We've had a long day."

Everyone rose and said their goodnights before retreating back to their new homes.

No sooner had Tilly opened their front door Daryl stormed past her and rushed up to the bedroom, leaving her to close and lock it behind her. The meeting had gone well, a plan was in place, and no one but Eugene had been opposed to it, so she was confused as to what had him so worked up.

She took off her thin jacket, which thankfully one of the others had grabbed from the house after she got separated, and pulled out the creased polaroid of Lana. She took a moment to stare at it before placing it back in the pocket and hanging the coat over the small hook in the entry.

When she reached the doorway of their shared room she saw Daryl sitting on the edge of the bed unlacing his boots, his dark hair falling into his face as he bent forward.

"Care to tell me what crawled up your ass?" she asked as she leaned against the doorframe, drawing only a huff from the hunter. "You gonna talk to me?" She approached where he sat and laid a hand on his shoulder, which he quickly shrugged away as he jumped up to face her.

"You wanna know what's bothering me?" he growled, leaning his face close to hers. "Rick's sending you out to play grab-ass with that evil bastard." He had become much more adept at controlling his anger since the group left the farm, but the idea of her being put in danger again made it roll out of him like thunder.

"It's not like I'm going home with him," she snapped, taken aback by his words. "I'll be in the middle of fucking town, surrounded by the good folk of Alexandria. And I'm not playing _grab-ass_, as you so eloquently put it. I'm helping to take down the asshole that stole Beth."

"Exactly!" he spat. "He stole Beth! What makes you think he ain't above pulling that shit with you, too, or any of our women."

"He's not going to-"

"You don't know that, Tilly!" he yelled, beginning to pace.

"He's left all of the other women here alone," she offered. "I doubt he'd want one as mouthy as me anyway."

"Stop trying to make it into a goddamned joke," he demanded, annoyed that she didn't seem to be taking the threat seriously. "You damn near got yourself shot in the head a while back, then I _lost_ you after that dumb prick in the cabin forced you to stay, and now you're goin' face-to-face with a guy we know nothing about, 'cept that he steals little girls and occasionally kills folk when he don't get his way."

Tilly's face grew red as he laid it all out. "You think I'm not fucking capable of taking care of myself?"

"I didn't say th-"

"Listen, Dixon," she hissed indignantly, getting close enough to his face that he could smell the whiskey on her breath. "In case you forgot, I didn't get shot in the head. I made it out of that cabin and managed to get all the way up here, keeping Beth and I both safe. Rick and the others seem to realize that I'm plenty competent to take on something like this. I don't know why you can't have that kind of faith in me."

He shook his head as he backed away from her, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words. His inability to voice his feelings was hampered even further by his frustration.

"I know you're tough," he explained, choosing his words carefully, "that ain't the issue."

"Well, what is it then?"

"I just got you back," he admitted, anger still playing behind his voice. "Don't even like the idea of letting you out of my sight right now, let alone heading out to hunt while you're here with that sonofabitch." He ran his hands over his face and through his hair as he paced, anxious at having admitted he wanted to keep an eye on her.

"You don't have anything to worry about," she assured him, her demeanor softening a bit. "Broad daylight. Lots of people around. He'd be stupid to try anything. Plus, Abraham and Tyreese will be nearby. They'll have my back."

The last part did calm him down a little. If he couldn't be there himself, he trusted those two men to step in if something went awry. He relaxed a bit, stepping toward her and wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned into his solid chest and stroked a hand across the rough leather of his vest.

"I still don't like it," he said softly, his face against the side of her head. He breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh smell of her supple hair, committing the fragrance to memory.

"I'm not exactly excited about it either," she agreed, "but we all do whatever's needed to keep the group safe."

He nodded and gently pulled her toward the bed, lying her back onto it easily. "We should get some sleep."

"You won't hear me arguing," she smiled, scooting over to make room for him. "Goodnight, Daryl."

"Night, Tilly" he sighed, sprawling next to her on the soft quilt.

"Hey, Daryl?" she whispered as he shifted his pillow and got comfortable.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, throwing an arm over her and pulling her to his chest.

"Did you really take out a tank?"

"Go to sleep, Matilda."


	27. Chapter 27

"The section of wall we're working on now is on the North side of the safe zone, just to the side of the gate," Jeff explained as he led Tilly, Tyreese and Abraham toward the community's entrance to meet the rest of the building crew.

The previous day had been spent getting to know the residents of the settlement, learning their way around, and partially being re-briefed by Rick on how they were to handle their encounter with the Saviors. The day of the meeting had finally arrived and to say Tilly was on edge was an understatement.

She had only been able to choke down a couple of bites of oatmeal that morning, and it sat like a rock in her stomach, threatening to find its way back up.

"You alright?" Tyreese whispered, resting his arm over her shoulder as they followed their new crew leader.

She let out a nervous laugh as she leaned her head into the large man's shoulder and let her left arm rest against his back. "I've been better. I'm starting to regret agreeing to do this."

"You'll be fine, girl," he reassured her, his deep voice still quiet. "Abe and I won't be far."

Tilly shook her head. "I'm not nervous he's going to kill me or anything," she explained. "I'm just worried I'll start rambling and he'll think I'm obnoxious, ignore me, and then I've accomplished absolutely nothing."

Tyreese chuckled at her concern and squeezed her to his side a bit. "I don't believe for a second you've ever had a problem with conversation, much as you talk."

She shoved him away playfully and offered him a large smile. Though they still didn't know each other remarkably well, Tilly had grown to love Tyreese. His strength was an asset to the group, but his gentle, comforting nature was really his greatest attribute. He had helped to calm her nerves a bit.

"This is the building crew," Jeff boomed, gesturing widely to the rag-tag group in front of him with his long, solid arms. "Tilly, you'll be on Crew A with Holly, Metcalf, and Cliff. You guys will take the left side of the gate. There are two panels that need to be completely replaced on that side, so you should have plenty to keep you busy."

Tilly made her way over to her assigned group, smiling at Holly as she approached, and checked out the other members. Metcalf looked to be in his late 40s, his dark hair cut in a short, military style. A bushy mustache graced the upper lip of the short, stocky man, and he wore an olive tank top tucked loosely into his cargo pants. She shook his hand and introduced herself before making her way over to Cliff.

"My ginger sister!" Cliff greeted her happily as she shook his hand. "Good to see we haven't all died off." She laughed loudly at his exclamation. He didn't appear to be any older than her and his bright red hair hung in loose curls around his ears. She had to guess the slender man was no shorter than six-and-a-half feet as she leaned her head back to look up at him.

Ty and Abraham were assigned to Crew B with Jeff, Darius and Nate. "We'll be working on reinforcing the panels on the right side. They're standing fine, but there's always room to make them stronger."

"I like the way you think," Abraham nodded, patting Jeff firmly on the back. "Things can never be too secure."

The two groups split up, each going to tackle their assigned task. It became apparent quickly that Metcalf had appointed himself as the leader of her crew, and though the man seemed nice enough it was clear that he was remarkably serious.

"We'll need you up on the wall," he explained to Tilly. "Cliff and I will lift the panels into place. You'll secure them up there while we get the sides screwed on."

"What am I doing?" Holly asked, pushing a bit of blonde hair behind her ear. "Seems Till's taken my place at the top." She winked over at the redhead, letting her know she wasn't actually upset about the situation. Truth be told, she was glad to not have to sit on top of the cold, steel frame all day.

"I need you to hold the panels in place while we work," Metcalf replied. "You'll just have to lean your weight against the center of them. Pretty easy."

"Sounds like a vacation to me," she laughed. "You all ready to get down to it?"

Several large, plywood panels were already situated near the area where they would be working, along with an impressive supply of tools.

"Where's your ladder?" Tilly asked absently as she stared at the wall in front of her. It had to have been at least fifteen feet high. _Good thing I'm not afraid of heights._

Metcalf shook his head. "Don't have one. The other crew is using it today. Cliff will get you up there."

"He's stronger than he looks," Holly laughed when she noticed the touch of shock in Tilly's eyes.

"Yeah," Cliff confirmed, heading toward her, "I can handle it. You'll have to stand on my shoulders, but you should be able to reach the top from there."

"Whoa," Tilly chuckled nervously, "alright, but if you drop me you're in for a world of hurt, boy."

"Yes, ma'am," he mocked her in a fake drawl before crouching down in front of her.

Holly handed her a metal bucket with a rope attached to the handle for her to pass tools back and forth, and she looped her elbow through the handle before tentatively setting a foot on Cliff's right shoulder.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you," she commanded. "You sure you can handle this?"

"I've put Holly up there more times than I can count," he reassured her. "Now, let's just get this done."

Metcalf offered her his hand for stability as she stepped onto his other shoulder, his hands grasped tightly around her ankles.

"Keep your legs straight," Cliff explained.

She stood to her full height, locking her legs in place, as he began to rise. Holly kept her hands reassuringly on the back of her knees. I wasn't until she heard the other redhead speak again that she realized she had her eyes squeezed closed.

"Can you reach the top?" he called up to her.

She opened her eyes and stretched her hands above her head, her fingertips grabbing firmly to the top of the wall. "Yeah," she responded, "I've got it."

She hauled herself up as well as she could, her still-injured arm screaming at her. Cliff reached up and pushed on her feet as well as he could to assist, and in a moment she was perched on top of the structure, admiring the view she had from that perspective. Behind her, within the settlement, people bustled about performing their daily tasks.

She could see Rick, Carl and Tara making rounds as they learned the ins and outs of post-apocalyptic police work. Beth and Carol worked in the garden, talking happily as they dug up vegetables. She took a moment to enjoy the sights before turning back to the task at hand.

The group worked for hours, carefully removing the first panel before Cliff and Metcalf lifted a new one into place. Tilly took her time, carefully placing each screw into the top of the wood. Holly leaned into the panel, keeping it in place, her gloved hands pressed firmly against the center of it while the men secured it on either side of her. There wasn't much in the way of conversation, but the four worked well together, efficiently communicating directions and exchanging tools.

"Hey Holly," Metcalf called. "Can you go grab me another box of screws from the truck? I'm running low."

Tilly didn't think much of the exchange, and continued humming quietly to herself as she worked until a voice called from the watch tower above.

"Biters!" a man's voice screamed, and the crew whipped their heads around in search of the incoming threat. Sure enough, a group of several walkers lumbered their way.

"Couldn't have warned us sooner?" Metcalf yelled back at the man on watch. "Motherfuckers are right up on us! Holly! Get the weapons!"

The woman obeyed and bolted to the truck to retrieve several long spears and a bow.

"Can you shoot this?" Cliff called to Tilly, holding the bow and a quiver of arrows up to her.

"I'm alright," she answered honestly, only having a moment to process what was happening before he tossed the weapon up to her. She caught it easily, breathing a sigh of relief as she managed to keep her footing.

"Stay up there and pick off as many as you can!" he ordered before running toward the herd, which was within twenty yards of them.

She tossed the quiver over her shoulder and squared her shoulders as the others went in hand-to-hand, the other building crew busy fighting off the ones that approached on their side. She nocked an arrow and aimed, letting it fly into the neck of a walker coming up behind Metcalf.

"Shit," she hissed, quickly nocking another, this time hitting the thing in the head and taking it down.

The battle continued for another few minutes before it became obvious that the crew was overwhelmed.

"Fall back!" Metcalf ordered, grabbing Cliff by the arm and pulling him toward the gate.

"Holly's surrounded!" Tilly screamed, seeing the other woman was pinned inside a group of several walkers, fighting furiously to keep her distance from their reaching hands.

"We can't take them!" the older man called back to her. "Fall back!"

"We can't leave her!" Tilly insisted, rage boiling inside of her.

"We have to, Tilly!" Cliff replied. "It's lost! We can't handle them hand-to-hand!" He huffed, hands on his knees, exhausted after the fight he'd just waged.

"You assholes!" Tilly screamed, her brain insisting she jump into action. She threw the bow over her back and lifted her legs over the wall, lowering herself down as far as she could with her hands grasped tightly to the ledge.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Metcalf cried out.

"What you cowards won't!" With that, she took a deep breath and released the wall, landing roughly after the ten-foot drop. A quick assessment told her nothing was injured and she cast off the bow and left it on the ground in favor of her knife as she ran to Holly's aid.

"Over here, assholes!" she said loudly, several of the biters turning their attention to her. There was a mixture of shock and appreciation in Holly's eyes, and she nodded at her briefly before launching herself into battle.

The whole event was a blur, adrenaline and rage driving her actions as she took out walker after walker. Holly was able to make her way back to the truck and quickly climbed as high as she could onto the top of it as Tilly fought below.

"Tilly!" Holly screeched. "Come on! Get up here!"

She received no response, her words drowned out by the sound of Tilly's own blood pumping in her ears. She was completely blind to anything but taking out the undead bastards that surrounded her.

A few minutes later, it was a gunshot that broke her out of her trance. She stood surrounded by fallen corpses, none of them moving, and whipped her head around in time to see that the gunshot had taken down the final walker, which was approaching her from behind. When she saw who held the gun, her blood ran cold.

"Well, well, well," Negan chuckled from beside a large box truck. He holstered his gun and began to give her slow, loud round of applause. "We've got fucking Xena Warrior Princess over here, guys."

Tilly stared at him coldly, forgetting for a moment she was supposed to be making friends with him. All she could think about were the things Beth had told her.

"It's… nothing," she huffed after a second, suddenly realizing how out of breath she was.

"None of you pricks could help her?" he scolded, shaking his head teasingly at the other men on the crew who had gathered to watch what was unfolding. "Fucking shame, sending the women out here to do your dirty work. Haven't you ever heard of chivalry?" They gave no response. "You guys going to let us in or what?" he asked to no one in particular. "Xena over here took out this bunch, but that gunshot's just gonna bring in more. I wanna get in and get our shit before that happens."

Cliff nodded, and went over to bang loudly on the gate. A minute later, it began to open slowly and they all made their way inside.

"Bring 'er in, boys," Negan called to the man in the driver seat of the truck. "Think I'm gonna take this one on foot." He took off at a jog, catching up to Tilly as she made her way toward the safe zone.

"Where have they been hiding you?" he asked, his tone friendly, as he reached her side.

"They haven't," she answered, forcing a smile as she cut her eyes angrily toward the men who had left Holly out there to die. "Just got here a couple of days ago."

He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her voice. "Got us a southern belle, I see. Where you from, darlin?" he imitated her accent.

"Kentucky," she answered, not caring to fill him in too much on where her group had been previously.

"Small world," he replied as the gates closed behind them. He reached up into the passenger seat of the box truck and Tilly paused to watch as he pulled out a blood-stained baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire. He held it up for her to see. "My lady Lucille here is from Louisville."

A lump formed in Tilly's throat as she remembered him mentioning the name while they were hunting for Beth. _"Do you want me to get Lucille?" _

"She, uh," she fought to keep her voice steady and genuine, "she looks like she's seen some combat."

"Damn right," he grinned, admiring the weapon like one might look at a lover, "and she's won every fucking time."

"Can't imagine she's had much worthy competition." The redhead did her best to focus on the task at hand, and threw a hint of flirtation into her voice.

His face beamed with pride at the compliment, and it reassured her she was doing something right. "Hold on just a second, Xena," he ordered, "let me put these fuckers to work real quick. I'm not done with you just yet." He threw a wink her way and she smiled, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat.

"Make the rounds, guys," he yelled to his men. "Make sure they aren't hiding anything good. I've got something to attend to."

"You alright?" Tilly turned toward the voice and saw it was Abraham that stood behind her, his muscular form towering above her own. "We didn't realize what was happening out there until it was too late or Ty and I would have helped, you know that right?"

She nodded at the sergeant. "I know. The fault there falls on Metcalf and Cliff. Trust me, they'll be getting a visit from me later."

He patted her firmly on the shoulder and nodded. "And this?" he said more quietly, referring to her situation with Negan.

"I'm good."

"Who do we have here, Xena?" Negan boomed. She hadn't even realized he'd come up beside her.

"Sergeant Abraham Ford, sir," he introduced himself, holding his hand out.

Negan took it and squeezed tightly, and in that moment Tilly was surprised she hadn't noticed the enormity of the dark-headed man. He stood even a few inches taller than Abraham and was just as broad.

"Negan," he replied before turning back to Tilly. "He with you?"

She caught the meaning behind his words. "We were with the same group before we came here. There were several of us."

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. "Nice to meet you, Sarge, now if you'll excuse me I'd like to have a word with Red here."

Abraham nodded to him and shot a quick, reassuring glance at Tilly, letting her know he wouldn't go far. Even he was intimidated by the man, which said something.

Negan led Tilly over to a nearby picnic table and gestured for her to sit across from him. She forced herself to smile as she unzipped her bloodied jacket and set it aside, revealing the thin t-shirt she wore underneath, damp with sweat. She could feel his eyes traveling all over her and it chilled her to the bone.

"These guys just do whatever you say," she observed, glancing around at his men who were loading supplies into the back of the truck. "You must be a hell of a leader."

"You aren't kidding, sweetheart," he laughed heartily, "but we aren't here to talk about me."

_I am, _she thought.

"Hell, I don't even know your name, Xena," he observed.

"Matilda," she answered, "but everyone calls me Tilly."

"I like Matilda better. _Tilly_ makes you sound like you give blowjobs for crack behind the gas station," he replied, the Cheshire grin never leaving his face. "So, _Matilda_, what did you do before this?"

She focused on keeping her answers brief, and tried to come up with a way to turn the conversation back to him and his men. "I was an electrician. What about you? What did you do?"

"Not much work for an electrician at the end of the world," he observed, ignoring her question. "You sure have a gift for fucking up those freaks, though."

"You fight or you die," she shrugged. She had to admit, evil as she knew he was there was something remarkably charming about the man. He was undeniably handsome, and she had no doubt he used it to his advantage.

"I like you, Xena," he grinned, laying a hand on top of hers. She forced herself not to move it, though her skin crawled under his grip. "We'd have a lot of use for someone like you back at our camp. You have any interest in leaving these fucktards behind? I mean, they just left that other woman out there to die. The fuck you think they'd have done if you, someone they just met, was up shit creek like that?"

She shook her head. Though she was still playing the game, trying to act interested in him, she wasn't going to go that far. "No thanks," she said politely. "There are people here I care too much about to leave."

He remained silent for a minute, staring over her shoulder as she spoke. "Your husband?" he guessed, still not looking directly at her.

She laughed a bit at that and shook her head. "Not a _husband_," she replied.

"Is that backwoods motherfucker the one that's not-your-husband?" he grinned, pointing behind her. She turned and saw Daryl stood a couple of blocks away, a string of rabbits slung over his shoulder.

"Why would you think that?" Now she was the one trying to avoid questions, and she knew there was no way he wasn't picking up on the nervousness in her tone.

"Because he's been glancing over here every few seconds, looking like he wants to rip my balls off and shove them down my throat."

"You've got a way with words," she chuckled, still attempting to change the subject.

He just raised an eyebrow at her, taking her lack of answer as confirmation. "So," he began, leaning forward, "he probably wouldn't like it if I did this." He stared intensely at her and for a moment she was worried he would kiss her. Instead, he tenderly ran his hand over her cheek, brushing back a piece of hair that had fallen out of her disheveled ponytail.

He didn't even need to glance back at Daryl to know he was staring daggers into him. "You know, Matilda, I'm enjoying toying with your hunter a little too much."

"You should probably stop, then," she said firmly, breaking character.

"Is that a threat?" he asked, still maintaining the obnoxious air of amusement behind his voice.

"No," she replied, shaking her head and pulling away a bit from where his hand still rested on the side of her face. "I'm just looking out for you. He's got a temper, and he's damn good with that crossbow."

"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed, finally leaning away from her. "I mean it, though, if you ever want to blow this shit-stand we'd welcome you with open arms. Hell of a weapon you'd be. No one would expect a little dish like you to be quite so deadly."

Once again, she felt his eyes on her and rushed to redirect the conversation. "Alright," she began, knowing the conversation she was about to begin was risky, "say I were to work with you. What's in it for me? I mean, they've got it pretty good here."

"This mean you're considering my offer?" he asked, intrigued by her question.

"I believe I'm the one asking questions now," she responded, deepening her voice a bit.

"Well, for one," he answered, leaning toward her again, "no one fucks with us."

"How many of you are there?" she dared to ask. "I mean, I don't see how anywhere could be safer than here. They have big walls and there's always someone on watch."

"We've got twice the folk you have here. We keep watch on more than just our camp, too," he explained. "We have a couple of other outposts set up around here to keep an eye on everyone else as well. Make sure no one's fucking around behind our backs, ya know."

She knew better than to ask where the outposts were, though the question sat at the tip of her tongue. She didn't want to seem suspicious, but acting interested in his proposition was going to allow her to gather the most information.

"Smart," she commented, smirking. "Is your group all men?"

He let out a loud guffaw. "You think it'd be possible to keep a group of men under control without some tits around? Plus, we'd be surviving on Spaghetti-Os or some shit. Nah," he assured her, "we definitely have some of the fairer sex among our ranks."

"So I'd be stuck washing your underwear and darning your socks?" she asked accusingly.

"Not unless you want to," he winked. "Can't really say any of our other women possess the same set of skills as you. I'm sure you'd be utilized appropriately."

Hard as she tried, she couldn't come up with a response, so she sat in silence, pretending to consider his offer for a minute before he spoke up.

"Looks like my men are finishing up, "he observed. "I'll escort you back to that hunter of yours. Make sure he contributed some of that fresh meat to the cause."

"Oh no," she raised a hand defensively as she stood, "I don't think that-"

"I _said_, I'll escort you over there," he said, making clear it wasn't optional. He put his arm around her shoulder roughly, her head coming up to his chest, and began to nearly drag her in Daryl's direction.

Daryl had been standing on the sidewalk acting interested in the conversation he was having with Dwight, one of Negan's henchmen. The guy was friendly, but Daryl had spent more time sparing glances at Tilly than actually listening. Every time he saw that bastard lay a hand on her he could feel his body temperature rising, and he was sure at that point there had to be actual smoke leaking from his ears.

"Redneck!" Negan's voice boomed from several feet away. Daryl immediately knew he was addressing him and he balled his hand into a fist at his side, trying to focus on the feeling of his fingernails digging into his palm so he wouldn't just rip the jerk a new face hole right then and there.

"It's Daryl," was all the hunter managed to hiss, his eyes focused on Tilly who was held tight to the larger man's side, his hand running up and down her arm.

"Just came to deliver Xena here," Negan explained, puffing out his chest so he seemed somehow even larger. "My boys are about to wrap things up." He stepped away from Tilly, and she breathed a sigh of relief until she felt him take her hand in his. He bent down and slowly brought her knuckles to his mouth, kissing them gently. "That's how they do things in the south, right?" he grinned, looking her in the eye and noticing her obvious discomfort. "Just trying to be a fucking gentleman, Red."

"C'mon," Daryl said roughly, reaching out to grab her free hand and pulling her toward him. "It's almost time for supper."

"Speaking of," Negan motioned toward Dwight, "don't forget to grab half the hunter's kill. I've got a taste for some rabbit tonight."

"Like Hell you will!" Daryl flinched away, but Tilly laid a hand on his arm and gave him a pleading glance, letting him know he needed to play along. He cursed under his breath as he unstrung half of the carcasses and all but threw them at Dwight.

A look of sick satisfaction crossed Negan's face and he began to walk away. "Thanks for dinner, Daryl," he said smoothly, turning back toward them for a moment. "And thanks for the talk, Matilda. I'll be seeing you." He threw a quick wink her way before heading back to the truck with his men.

Daryl glared holes through his back as he left, his face locked into an even deeper scowl than normal.

"Let's just go home," Tilly said gently, giving his arm a light tug.

He nodded, his eyes still on the Saviors' truck for a moment, before slinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding her back to their house. The pair didn't exchange a single word once they got home. Tilly immediately ran up to the bathroom, her skin crawling from the feeling of Negan's fingers, and jumped into a desperately needed shower.

She knew Daryl's silence was a signal that an explosion was imminent, but for the moment she just wanted to clear her head. She focused on the sweet scent of the conditioner she massaged into her hair, the feeling of the cool razor as she slid it along her legs, and the soft towel she wrapped around her dripping body as she exited the steamy room.

When she made it back to the bedroom, her still-damp legs leaving a small trail of water droplets on the floor, Daryl was nowhere to be seen. She noticed a small slip of paper on her pillow and went to read it.

_Took the kill to the kitchen._

_Dinner's at Rick's._

_See you there. _

She shrugged as she crumpled the paper and tossed it into the small wastebasket beside the bed. Though she knew the two of them needed to discuss what had happened that day, she was glad she had some time to herself.

She walked to the dresser to examine the small collection of clothing Holly had provided for her the day before. There were several pairs of socks and underwear, three bras, a collection of plain t-shirts and two pairs of dark blue jeans. It wasn't much, but it was still more of a selection than she was used to.

She grabbed a couple of underthings, a pair of jeans and a deep red, v-neck shirt and got dressed before running the towel roughly over her soggy hair. Holly had also provided her with a small grocery sack full of toiletries, which she had yet to explore, so she sat cross-legged on the bed and began to dig through the bag.

"Oh, my god," she sighed with a smile as she pulled out the treasures. Inside was a bottle of leave-in conditioner, deodorant, lotion, and even a tube of mascara. "Oh, how I've missed you," she laughed, staring giddily at the cosmetic, a long-forgotten luxury.

She made her way over to the tall mirror in the corner and, for the first time since who-knows-how-long, she allowed herself to primp a bit. She ran a palm-full of the conditioning cream through her long locks before sweeping on the dark mascara.

Before the turn, it had taken her at least an hour each morning to get ready. She'd primp and preen, taking the time to straighten her hair and put on a full face of makeup before carefully selecting an outfit, all the while Lana would make snide comments as she waited impatiently for her friend to finish. Now, all it took was a shower and a bit of mascara. She stood and, for the first time, really examined the post-apocalyptic version of herself in the mirror. Her hair had grown out, badly in need of a trim, and hung in soft waves down her back. Her body had become much leaner, her muscles visible for once in her life, and her face was thinner as well. Her plain clothing was in stark contrast to the carefully accessorized style of her past, but all-in-all she decided the look suited her. She may not have been the most beautiful woman in the world, but she had never felt more confident.

Satisfied with her appearance, she checked the small clock on the nightstand. There was still about half-an-hour until she needed to be at Rick's, so she allowed herself to lay down on the bed for a well-deserved cat nap. It only took a moment for her to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"Matilda!" Daryl boomed as he busted through the front door. "Tilly! You here?"

He was met with silence, and his heart began to race. Every worst case scenario ran through his head as he checked the living room, then the kitchen. Though deep-down he knew the town was safe, he was still freaked out when she never showed up for dinner.

"Matild-" he stopped as he reached the bedroom and saw her sprawled out on the bed, her long limbs stretched out around her.

"Hey," he said, more gently, sitting down beside her and shaking her arm.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She smiled as his face came into focus. "Hey," she whispered, stretching as she sat up on her elbows. "Is it time to go to Rick's? Sorry, I just needed to lay down for a minute."

"Was more than a minute," he said sharply, pointing toward the clock. "Ya missed dinner. I was worried, didn't know what had happened to you."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I was just tired."

He nodded, pushing aside his irritation. "We're about to start the meeting," he explained. "I put some food back for you."

She shook her head as she got to her feet. "I'm not hungry right now. Between those assholes leaving Holly out there to die and having to chat up that scumbag I can't say I have much of an appetite."

"What are you talking about?" he raised an eyebrow. "Holly?"

She clenched her fists as she allowed herself to remember what had happened. "There was a herd outside," she recounted, "while we were working on the wall. I was up on top of the wall when they showed up, tried to shoot them with the bow but you know I'm shit with it." She smirked at him, hoping he'd crack a smile, but his face remained serious as he listened.

"After a while, Metcalf decided we couldn't handle them all and ordered everyone to get inside the gates, but Holly was surrounded. There were probably fifteen geeks surrounding her, and those guys just…" her voice trailed off a bit, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "They just left her there. I yelled at them to help her, but Metcalf said she was lost already. I jumped off of the wall, ditched the stupid bow and helped her take them out. That's when Negan showed up, put a bullet through the last one."

"Where were Abe and Tyreese?" he asked. "Has the medic checked you out?" Before she could answer, he went to work searching her over for any sign of scratches.

"I'm fine," she assured him, not bothering to stop him from running his hands over her arms. "They were with the other half of the crew, too far away to even see what was happening. They had their own set of walkers to deal with."

He nodded and grabbed the hem of her shirt. "Lemme check your back," he said firmly, and she pulled her shirt over her head in agreement.

Daryl examined her skin closely, looking for any sign that she'd been harmed during her fight, but her back was clear. He spun her around, scouring her stomach and chest in the same manner.

"If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask," she smirked, watching his cheeks turn red.

"Shut up," he replied, unable to keep a small smile off of his lips as he tossed her shirt back to her. "We need to get to Rick's."

When they made it to the Grimes' home the rest of the group was already crowded into the small living room.

"Sorry to keep ya'll waiting," Tilly apologized as she squeezed onto the couch next to Beth, patting the girl on the knee affectionately. Daryl propped himself up against the wall at the back of the group, his arms crossed over his chest as Rick stood to address them.

"Tara and I had the chance to speak to one of Negan's men," the leader began. "His name was Arnold, and he said he'd been with Negan since the beginning. They worked together before, doing security at a club in the city."

_A bouncer? _Tilly thought. _That explains the false air of superiority._

Rick fiddled with his long beard as he continued. "Their camp is about twenty miles east of here. He wouldn't tell me exactly where, of course, but at least we have an idea."

"They have outposts throughout the area, too," Tilly added. "I'm not sure how many, but a few."

"Did you get anything else useful out of him?" Michonne asked the woman, leaning forward from her position on the other side of Beth to look her in the face.

"He said they had twice as many people as we do here," she offered. "Seems like they have mostly men, but he said they had a few women, mainly for the men's benefit, it seems. He didn't really give me much more information than that."

"Yeah," Daryl scoffed, "cause the prick was too busy putting his hands all over you."

"Did he do something?" Rick asked, concern scribed into his features, but Tilly shook her head.

"No," she answered, "he was just flirtatious. He was mostly trying to get a rise out of Daryl because he saw him keeping an eye on me." She saw the hunter's cheeks darken, but that wasn't the time to spare him embarrassment. She wanted to tell Rick everything. "He gets off on making people uncomfortable, I think. It makes him feel powerful."

"Did he say anything about how much fire power they have?" Glenn asked. "Weapons?"

She shook her head. "He carried a gun, I know that much, but I didn't see any of the others with much more than pistols. He does carry around some sick fucking baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it."

"Lucille," Beth confirmed, and the group turned their attention to her. "That's the bat's name. He treats that thing like it's his girlfriend or somethin.' I saw him shoot a guy just for dropping it once. He's insane."

"Insane," Maggie agreed, "but his men treat him like he's a god or something. They just cater to his every whim."

"They do," Beth replied. "They're all terrified of him, and rightly so."

"How long until they come back?" Tilly asked Rick, praying for a long reprieve from their presence.

"A month or so, I think," he replied, "but we can't count on these guys being consistent. We need to find these outposts. That's the key to us getting the jump on them. We can't let them see us first."

"We'll send out scouts," Morgan suggested, "under the guise of looking for supplies or something."

"He'll see right through that," Tilly said, shooting down the idea. "He might be a crazy motherfucker, but he's smart, especially when it comes to this world. I didn't talk to him long, but I gathered that much. He won't be easily manipulated."

"Then we'll just have to look for them while we're _actually_ out looking for supplies," Glenn offered, knowing that responsibility would fall to him. "Heath is taking a group of us out tomorrow. I'm not sure how far we're going, but I'll keep a lookout."

"That'll have to do for now," Rick nodded, once again scratching his dark beard, "until we have more information."

All of a sudden, Carol raised her hand. "If we're settled on that for now, can I make an off-topic suggestion?" A smile played on her lips, and Rick raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What would that be?" he asked.

"Can we _please_ clean you men up? I'm tired of watching you scratch that damn beard every thirty seconds?" she replied, drawing laughter from the rest of the room.

Rick bowed his head as he laughed and stroked his face. "I guess it's time to say goodbye to it," he grinned. "But only if the rest of then men take the plunge with me."

This excited the women, and before the rest of them could even agree to the makeover they were off in different directions gathering scissors, razors and shaving cream. After the nerve-racking day they'd had, it was nice for them to be able to do something fun and frivolous.

They broke off into small groups, positioned around Rick's small home with their supplies and bowls of water.

Daryl grumbled as Tilly pushed him down to sit on the floor and took a seat in front of him.

"I can do it myself, woman," he insisted, but she swatted his hand away from the razor.

"Stop it," she chided. "Come on, it'll be fun. Pretend you're at the spa."

"Spa?" he scoffed. "I ain't never been to no damn _spa_."

She rolled her eyes and pushed his long hair out of his face before squirting a dollop of cream into her hands. Looking around the room and seeing the other men had given in, he begrudgingly relaxed and accepted his fate.

"Cut me and you'll be sorry," he warned.

"You're in good hands," she assured, giving him her brightest smile before applying the cool substance to his chin and cheeks.

"You wearin' makeup?" he asked as he watched her slowly glide the razor over his face. She was only inches from him, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on keeping her hands steady. Her hair flowed over one shoulder as she leaned into him, the now-familiar smell of her shampoo clouding his senses.

"I'm surprised you noticed," she giggled, rinsing the razor in the bowl before returning it to his cheek. "Holly gave me some things. I thought it'd be nice to feel pretty for once."

"You're always pretty," he said quietly, trying his hand at giving her a compliment. It was foreign to him, but the smile she gave him confirmed it was worth stepping out of his comfort zone. He'd do anything to keep her smiling like that.

"I'm not bad for a post-apocalyptic chick, I suppose," she laughed. "I'm gonna have to step up my game to keep up with you once we get all this fuzz off your face, though. I'm excited to see what the bottom half of your face looks like."

He punched her lightly in the arm as she pulled away to rinse the razor again.

"Or you'll go running for the hills once you see what my face really looks like under there," he joked. "You wanna chop off this damn hair, too, while you're at it?" he asked, batting a piece of it out of his eyes. "It's startin' to get fucking annoying."

She practically squealed at the proposition. "You're going to trust me with that?"

He shrugged. "Ain't like I'm too worried about what my hair looks like, I just want it out of my way."

She spent a few more minutes working on his face, stepping back once she was done and smiling at her handiwork before tackling his mane. Borrowing a pair of scissors from Maggie, she began hacking carefully at the shoulder-length locks, cutting them so short they barely grazed his ears. When she was satisfied with the length she took her hand and mussed his hair a bit.

"Can't have you looking too put-together," she smiled. "That's not really your style."

He reached a rough hand up to get a feel for how much hair was left, and nodded in satisfaction when he realized he wouldn't have to mess with keeping it out of his face any longer. When he looked over to Tilly to thank her, he realized she was staring at him intently, her top lip curled up slightly on one side.

"The fuck is that look for?" he questioned, the attention making him self-conscious.

"You're just really sexy," she replied huskily, knowing those were probably the last words he expected to come out of her mouth. "Seriously, we need to go home right now." She winked at him and he mumbled something under his breath before getting to his feet quickly and brushing the hair off of his shirt and jeans.

"Hot damn!" Rick called at him from across the room, his face cleanly shaven and with a fresh haircut of his own. "Who knew you cleaned up so good, Dixon?"

"Look pretty decent yourself, officer," Daryl laughed, looking around at all of the other men, each of them getting used to their new looks.

"No one's even going to recognize you guys," Michonne grinned, her normally stoic expression replaced with what might pass for actual happiness. "Except maybe Glenn," she added. "Kid barely had a lick of hair on his face anyway."

Glenn flipped her the bird and laughter broke out across the room once again.

"He's got more than me," Carl added, trying to jump to Glenn's defense, but it only made them laugh harder.

"Thanks, kid, that makes me feel better." Glenn rolled his eyes and reached out to ruffle the boy's freshly trimmed hair playfully.

They all knew that soon they would have to tackle the threat of the Saviors, but that night they allowed themselves to forget. They had spent so much time with each other, grown to deeply love one-another, but that time had been spent struggling to survive. Now, they could finally enjoy the loving family they had fought so hard to protect, and it made them want to fight even harder to maintain it.


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: Warning- There is the *tiniest* bit of smut ahead. Very little, I promise. :) Thanks for reading, guys! I appreciate all of your feedback!**

The next morning was not pretty.

As soon as he awoke, before he had to report for duty, Rick was at Douglas's door. Judging by how long it took him to answer the frantic knocking the older man couldn't have been out of bed yet himself.

When he finally made it to the door, his white hair was disheveled and he held a black robe tightly around his frame.

"We need to talk," Rick grumbled, not waiting for an invitation before he charged into the house.

"Good morning to you too, Rick," he chuckled, an attempt to hide his irritation at being disturbed at that hour.

The officer made his way to the same room where they had talked before, but didn't bother to take a seat before beginning his lashing.

"Your people left one of your own to _die_ outside yesterday, "he growled, his long finger in Douglas's face, "did you know that?"

Monroe's eyes grew wide, and the surprise that registered on his face told Rick he'd had no clue what happened with the building crew the previous afternoon.

"Holly," he explained, "they got attacked by a herd and when she got surrounded your men just _left_ her there. They cared more about saving their own asses than helping that woman."

"Rick, I-"

"Is that the kind of people you have here?" Rick interrupted harshly.

Douglas shook his head as he took a seat, clearly at a loss for what to say. "Our people are good, Rick, I swear to you. I have no idea why they'd do that. Holly's ok though, right?"

"No thanks to them," he hissed. "Tilly saved her ass, hell _Negan _even pitched in. I don't like the idea of my people being out there if yours aren't going to have their backs."

"I'll handle it," Monroe assured him. "And I want you to know, as far as I'm concerned, your people are _our_ people as well. This is unacceptable and will be dealt with."

"You'll deal with it, or I will," Rick warned before turning and storming out into the street.

To say Tilly wasn't excited to report for work was an understatement. The closer she got to the gates, the more her blood boiled. She gritted her teeth and waved at Maggie, who was on watch, to open the gate and she made her way outside. Abraham and Tyreese were talking loudly with Jeff just outside, and the three went to greet her as she approached, but all she saw was Metcalf beyond them.

His mouth twitched when he noticed her staring at him, fire in her eyes, and he averted his gaze. That didn't sit well with her.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, Metcalf!" she hissed as she made her way toward the older man, her feet pounding the cold dirt with every step.

"Tilly-" Tyreese tried to get her attention, but she held up a hand to silence him.

Metcalf continued to look away, ignoring her completely, which only made her angrier. "Talk to me, you fucking coward!" she yelled, then only a couple of feet in front of him.

It was clear he could no longer pretend he didn't hear her, and he turned to meet her, their faces even with one-another. "Nothing to talk about," he spat coldly.

The other men stood back from the confrontation, but Abraham moved closer, ready to jump in if the situation called for it.

"Oh, there sure as shit is, little man," she laughed madly. "Do you guys routinely leave women out here to get chomped to pieces, or is that new for you?"

"There were too many," he growled, stepping forward a bit more in an attempt to intimidate her, but she wasn't swayed.

"Too many? Too many?" she yelled, taking a step back before pacing a circle around the man.

"We didn't want to-" Tilly hadn't even noticed Cliff approaching her from behind and she spun to face him.

"You didn't want to _what_, Cliff?" she asked harshly. "You didn't want to risk your own ass for someone else? Hmm? You didn't want to get blood on your shirt? Really, what kind of excuse is there for pussying out at leaving one of your own to the geeks?" By then she was screaming, all the rage she'd felt the day before pouring out of her onto the two men she blamed.

Then, she felt a thick hand on her shoulder and Metcalf spun her roughly to face him. "I'm in charge here," he boomed, driving a finger into her chest, "and you're fucking crazy." Her eyes widened at the insult, though she knew she probably looked out of her mind at the moment. "You jumped your dumb ass into a group of biters to save _one_ person! We don't risk the whole group for _one_." She took a step back from him, but he continued to close in, once again jabbing her in the chest with his stout finger. "You're going to fall in line, or-"

He was stopped when Abraham's large form appeared between him and Tilly, his body practically knocking the older man backward. "Touch her again," the sergeant dared. "See what happens." Tyreese appeared beside her as well, and Metcalf backed away, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

"Jeff!" The group turned to see Douglas standing on the inside of the gate, beckoning to the leader of the building crew. "A word, please?"

Jeff nodded, glancing over to Tilly quickly to make sure the situation had simmered down before making his way over to the senator, the two men talking quietly for a minute while the rest of the crew stood in awkward silence.

"Where's Holly?" Tilly whispered, leaning over to Tyreese.

"Haven't seen her," he shrugged. "Maybe she got her duty changed."

"Wouldn't blame her," Tilly sighed.

"We'll be reassigning the work crews, "Jeff announced once he made his way back to the group, Douglas retreating back into the settlement. "Nate will be heading one crew with Abraham, Metcalf and Darius." Abraham and Metcalf exchanged a heated look but remained silent. "The other crew will be me, Cliff and Tyreese."

"What about me?" Tilly questioned, offended that her name wasn't called. "And Holly?"

"Holly asked to be reassigned," Jeff explained. "She's now on watch, and you'll be moved as well. Douglas has asked you meet him in the community center."

"Am I gonna be stuck washing dishes now or something?" she asked indignantly. "Is this some sort of punishment?"

Jeff approached her and began to speak quietly. "It's not a punishment, Tilly. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. Metcalf made the wrong call, and he's being penalized for it. After seeing what you can do, we've just decided you'd be of better use elsewhere. No dishes," he smiled, "I promise."

She nodded, still unconvinced, and made her way inside to meet with Monroe. When she found the old man he was leaned against the long table in the center of the community building, a large cigar dangling from his fingers.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, announcing her presence as she entered.

He smiled in her direction and motioned for her to take a seat next to him. "Nice to see you, Tilly," he greeted. "Your buddy Rick paid me a visit this morning, almost didn't recognize him with that beard gone."

She chuckled a little. "Yeah, we thought it was time our men stopped looking like they lived in a cave."

The man laughed heartily and set his cigar into a plastic ashtray on the table. "He told me what happened yesterday outside the gates," he continued. "I'm very disappointed about it."

"It was shameful," she nodded, rubbing her forehead. "I know I can't expect every group we encounter to be just like ours, but we'd never leave one of our own in that situation, even if it meant risking more of our people."

"That's my philosophy as well," he agreed, "and we've dealt with Metcalf accordingly. He's been stripped of all leadership duties on the crew until further notice. And Cliff-"

"I don't blame Cliff," she sighed honestly. "He's young, inexperienced… He doesn't seem like one to defy orders. He acted cowardly, but he wasn't the one who made the call to leave her there."

"I'm glad you stepped up, Tilly." He laid a rough hand lightly on her arm and she looked up to meet his serious gray eyes. "Holly is a dear friend, and I'd just be devastated if anything had happened to her. After hearing what you did out there, I think you'd be more useful doing something other than manning a hammer all day."

"And what might that be?"

He removed his hand and picked up the cigar, taking a deep drag before speaking. "How would you feel about going on supply runs?"

"Into the city?" she asked, her heart jumping a little at the proposition.

Douglas nodded. "And all around the area. It'd make me feel better to have someone with your skills with my men out there. Plus, that crew is a little thin right now anyway, with Glenn joining them there's still only three."

"I can do that," she agreed, though the prospect did make her a little nervous. She wasn't in any hurry to go back into the walker-infested capital.

"Good," he smiled, standing. "They're leaving on a run in about an hour. Take some time to go home and get ready, then meet Heath and the others by the vehicles."

"Well," she laughed, "this day has taken quite the turn."

"Indeed it has," he nodded. "You sure you're ok to do this?"

"I've never turned down a challenge, sir."

"That's what I like to hear, my dear," he replied, giving her a stiff pat on the back. "Be careful."

"Always am." With that, she left to head back to her home and prepare for the task ahead.

"What are you doing back?" Daryl asked as she entered. He sat at the small dining room table, untangling a spool of wire.

"I could ask you the same thing," she smiled, watching his agile hands as they worked.

"We aren't going out today," he answered, his eyes focused on his task. "Teaching the guys how to set snares in a bit. Have to get this sorry excuse for wire sorted first, though, or it's no good to anybody."

She nodded and took a seat across from him. "I was reassigned," she explained, "after what happened yesterday."

"Yeah?" he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Where'd they put ya?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering, already knowing he wasn't going to be happy with her placement. "I'm on the supply crew, with Glenn. We'll be leaving on a run in just a bit. I just came home to change."

He dropped the spool to the table with a thud, his face screwing into a scowl. "They're sending you out there farther? That how they repay you for saving a woman's life yesterday?"

"Douglas said my skills would be more useful there than working on the fence."

"Or he's pissed you broke rank," he spat, "trying to get rid of you."

"Are you serious?" she laughed nervously, standing from the table. "That seems like a pretty big reach."

"I just have a bad feeling about that guy, Tilly," he sighed. "There are a lot of good people here, but he's not one of them."

"What gives you that impression?" she pried. "He seems pretty reasonable so far. I mean, he gave us a little bit of grief with the Beth thing, but he came around. He seems to like having us here."

"Yeah," he scoffed, "more mules to pull the plow while he sits pretty in that big house of his. He ain't concerned about any of us as long as all the shit around here gets done."

"He's a senator," she observed, "you can't blame him for being useless, it's all he knows."

"It's not funny," he scolded, grabbing her elbows and pulling her closer to himself. "Just promise me you'll watch your back out there, Glenn's too."

"Of course," she nodded. "I'll be fine. Plus, I'll be another set of eyes to help him scout for those outposts."

"Just don't do anything stupid," he warned her, the idea of her interacting with any of the rough Saviors again making his stomach twist.

"When have I ever done anything stupid?" she grinned mischievously before planting a quick kiss on his stiff lips. His face remained unamused, but she ran her hands gently over his face, admiring his now-smooth chin. "I can see that scowl a lot better with that fuzz gone," she teased, "it doesn't suit you."

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his again, harder that time. He stood tensely for a moment, but eventually gave in, parting his lips a bit and allowing her smooth tongue to enter. His hands trailed under the hem of her t-shirt, resting against the warm, soft skin of her back. He pulled her against him tightly, knowing that when he let go he'd be releasing her out into the walker-infested world outside the walls. He was determined to hang on as long as she'd allow.

Her fingers slid through his short hair, the pads of her fingers massaging his scalp lightly, and she moved her mouth to his throat, trailing kisses along his jawline. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, her lips sending jolts through his entire body. He ran the tip of his tongue over her earlobe before biting it lightly, eliciting a small moan from her.

He couldn't contain himself anymore and dared to tug at the hem of her shirt, pulling it toward her head. She raised her arms, allowing him to tug it off, before roughly removing his long-sleeved gray flannel in the same manner.

"We don't have much time," she whispered between sighs, though the looming responsibility still didn't allow her enough self-control to put a stop to it.

"Don't need much," he laughed huskily, his fingers dancing over the button of her jeans. "Should we go upstairs?"

"No point," she shook her head, taking his mouth against hers with urgency, her hands tugging at his belt.

A moment later, their jeans laid in a pile on the floor as their bodies continued to tangle into one another. Daryl pushed her against the wall of the kitchen, the cool surface against the bare skin of her back heightening her senses even more. His left hand worked at the clasp of her bra as she clawed at his broad shoulders. She nearly screamed when she felt his right hand push her underwear away and he slid two thick fingers inside of her.

"Shit, Daryl," she sighed, burying her tongue into his mouth and lifting her leg, her knee pressing firmly against his hip. That was all the invitation he needed. He pulled away his boxers and lifted her other leg around him, supporting her weight with his strong arms as she leaned against the wall.

"You ready?" he asked, the warmth of her hovering tantalizingly close to his manhood.

"Do you really have to ask?" she smiled.

He wasted no more time taking her, right there against the kitchen wall.

They laid on the floor a few minutes later, completely spent, and Tilly let herself rest against his chest for just a minute before the hunter's voice snapped her back to reality.

"How long til you gotta go?" Daryl asked quietly, stroking her hair gently as she studied her face.

"I'm pushing it already. I need to go now," she groaned, sitting up and staring over the discarded clothing littering the room. "At least half the work of changing clothes has been done for me." She smiled widely at him and kissed his cheek before standing and gathering her things, not bothering to shield her naked body as she worked.

He looked away instinctually, and she smiled as she noticed him fussing with his fingernails. "It's ok to look," she laughed, walking over and kissing him again. "I think you've earned that right." She threw him a wink and made her way upstairs, his eyes taking in the sights as she moved.

Upstairs, she dressed quickly in a fresh, sturdy pair of jeans, thick socks, and a dark t-shirt. Her jacket was still spattered in blood from the massacre outside the gates, so she rummaged through her things trying to find another layer to throw on.

"Here," Daryl appeared behind her, and as though he knew what she was searching for he handed her his leather jacket.

She nodded in thanks and pulled the soft, thick garment on. It hung comically over her, and they shared a laugh at the sight. "It's a little big," she deduced, removing it and lying it on the bed.

"Yeah," he agreed, "don't want to wear anything too easy to grab."

"I'll stop by the commissary on my way to the parking lot and see if they have anything I can use," she decided, throwing a bottle of water and clean pair of socks into her pack. "There is one item of G.I. gear that can be the difference between a live grunt and a dead grunt," she quoted as she packed the socks, deepening her voice.

"Socks," Daryl finished. "Cushioned sole, O.D. green." He crept toward her and wrapped her in an embrace. "Try and keep your feet dry."

She giggled a bit as she squeezed him back. "This is why I hang out with you."

"One of my favorite movies," he shared. "Shame we'll never see it again."

She nodded in agreement as she begrudgingly pulled away. "Time for me to go, Lieutenant. I'll bring ya back something nice."

"Not that I need to say it, but be careful."

"Always am," she recited for the second time that day. And with that, she was on her way.

Tilly met Heath, Glenn, and a man she didn't recognize in the small cluster of vehicles parked near the front of the compound. She pulled the zipper a little higher on the fitted olive-green sweatshirt she'd found in the commissary and waved at the men as she approached.

"Morning, gentlemen," she greeted, turning to the unfamiliar man. He stood just a bit taller than her, his build only slightly thicker than Glenn's lean frame. His light brown hair sat in curls over his ears, and his hazel eyes possessed an air of kindness. "Don't think I've met you yet," she said, extending her hand to the man. "I'm Tilly."

"Michael," he replied with a white- toothed smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Tilly. This your first run?"

"It is," she confirmed, releasing his hand and readjusting her pack on her shoulder, "with ya'll anyway. Anything I should know?"

"We're headed east today," Heath informed her. "There's a town about fifteen miles from here. We've searched the outskirts a bit already, but there are a few places we still want to check out."

"Anything in particular we're looking for?" Glenn asked.

"Whatever looks usefully, really," Michael answered for him, "but we're especially in need of medical supplies. Bandages, antiseptic, antibiotics, all that good stuff."

Glenn grinned, remembering back to his times in the pharmacy near the Greene farm with Maggie. "We can handle that," he replied, pushing the memory of their first run together out of his head so he could focus.

Heath continued to fill them in on the logistics of the plan. "We'll check out a few weapons from the armory. I'm sure you each have your own, but it won't hurt to restock on ammo and have a couple more guns in the car just in case. We also have a pretty good supply of melee weapons you can choose from. Of course, those will be our primary means of defense unless things go crazy."

"Things always go crazy," Tilly mumbled, and Glenn elbowed her in the ribs.

"We'll take one of the vans," Heath continued, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up on his nose.

The small group nodded, and followed the man to the armory. A large assortment of weapons lined the walls, a clipboard sat on a table near the door for citizens to sign them out. A heavy-set woman who looked to be in her thirties with curly blonde hair sat in a chair beside the table.

"Morning, Olivia," Michael waved.

"Morning," she smiled. "Where are you all off to today?"

"Headed east, going to push farther into that town Joe and I saw a couple of weeks ago," Heath replied as he pulled a couple of rifles from the racks.

Michael busied himself gathering ammo for the rifles, as well as the handguns they all already carried and piled it into a dark duffle bag while Glenn and Tilly eyed a selection of hand-held weaponry.

Glenn chose a heavy metal baseball bat while Tilly picked up a crowbar and hooked it through her belt.

"Good choice," Michael chirped, nodding toward her weapon. "Good for bashing heads and breaking into doors."

"You're damn right," Tilly drawled. "We all ready to go yet?"

"Just about," Heath replied, scribbling furiously on the sign-out sheet. The group stood patiently for a minute while he finished. "Done," he announced, setting the pen down and nodding to Olivia.

"You all be careful now!" she called as they exited the building, pushing the door closed behind them.

Heath and Tilly took the front seats of the van, Michael insisting on giving up his seat to the woman even though, being familiar with the area, he would have been a much better navigator. She didn't argue, however, as she wanted to have a prime view to scour the area for the Saviors' outposts.

As they cruised, Tilly was surprised at how rural the surroundings were. She had expected the area to be more suburban, but instead it was full of tree-lined roads. Leaves drifted down around them as they drove, their dark yellows and reds creating beautiful patterns on the asphalt ahead of them.

"Looks like we're getting pretty deep into autumn," Michael remarked from the back.

"If only we could enjoy being out here," Tilly sighed. "I used to love lying in our back yard and just staring into the woods when the colors changed. Now I wouldn't dare lie out in the open like that."

"Did you live in the country?" Michael pried, coming to crouch between the two front seats.

"It wasn't really the _country_," she recounted, her mind wandering back to the familiar Romero home where she'd spent most of her youth. "We had a few neighbors, but a nice, big back yard that ran up against a patch of forest. It was lovely." She did her best to push aside the memory and focus on scouring the edge of the woods for any sign of life.

"You miss your parents?" he asked next, letting out a yelp when Heath punched him in the arm.

"You know better than to ask that question anymore," the other man warned. "Sorry he's so clueless, Tilly."

"It's alright," she reassured him. "My parents were gone long before any of this happened. I don't miss them, I miss…" her voice trailed off, but Glenn finished her sentence for her.

"Lana."

"Yeah," she sighed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "I can't even remember how long she's been gone. Sometimes it feels like it happened a million years ago." She stopped to clear her throat. "Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday."

She noticed the confused looks on the faces of Heath and Michael. "Lana's parents raised me," she explained. "She was my best friend, my _sister_. She was bitten, uh, a couple of weeks ago I guess. Hard to keep track of time anymore. I know we're supposed to be used to losing people by now, but it still feels like half of me is missing, ya know?"

She reached into her pack and pulled out the polaroid, her one remaining physical piece of her friend, and handed it to Michael.

"She's beautiful," he smiled, studying the photo for a moment before handing it back.

Tilly smiled at the compliment and carefully tucked it back into her bag.

"Have you guys been here since the beginning?" she asked, needing to change the subject before she succumbed to the pain that welled within her.

"Heath has," Michael answered, "but I've only been here maybe six months. I was with another group, out of Massachusetts, before that."

"Are any of them in Alexandria with you?" Glenn piped up from the back of the van.

"A couple," he replied, running a hand through his curly locks. "We lost a lot of people, but luckily a few of us found Alexandria and were able to settle down. It's nice to feel safe for once. I'd forgotten what that was like."

"I don't know if I'll ever feel safe," Glenn replied. "We've been behind walls before. They may keep the walkers at bay, but they don't do any good if there's someone out there who wants what you have."

An awkward silence passed through the vehicle, no one knowing exactly how to respond to Glenn's comment, but it was broken when Tilly noticed what looked like a large tree stand ahead of them.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing toward the structure.

Half-a-dozen rough-looking men were scattered around the base of it, large guns thrown over many of their shoulders.

"The Saviors," Heath answered gruffly, his face hardening. "They're set up in a few places around here. I don't remember seeing them out here before, though. This outpost must be new."

_Duh, _Tilly shook her head to herself, _why didn't we think to ask the guy in charge of supply runs if he knew where they were set up?_

"They going to give us any trouble?" Glenn asked, quietly eyeing the men ahead of them.

"They shouldn't," Michael answered, "but we will have to stop and talk to them. Negan likes to keep tabs on our comings and goings."

Tilly stared down one particularly menacing man as they approached the makeshift roadblock. He was tall and unnaturally scrawny. His dark mustache was curled up into handlebars and a navy bandana held his shaggy, dark hair out of his face. He wore a large pair of aviator sunglasses, even though the area was well-shaded. To put it bluntly, he looked like the definition of 'bad news.' The corner of his thin lips were twisted into a small, unsettling smile as Heath slowed the vehicle to a stop and rolled down Tilly's window so he could speak with the men.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the scrawny man hissed. "You folks on your way to somewhere in particular?" He tipped his sunglasses down over his nose, his hungry eyes studying Tilly closely.

"Just going on a supply run," Heath answered smoothly, seemingly unbothered by his manner. "There's a town just a little ways from here we haven't fully checked out yet."

"Where are you coming from?" another, slightly younger man stepped forward. "You guys part of our network?"

_Network, _she thought, _so that's what they're calling it. _

"Yes," Heath nodded, "we're from Alexandria."

The younger man hesitated for a moment before nodding in approval. "Good," he said sharply. "Get on, then."

Tilly rolled up her window as Heath put the car into gear and began rolling forward. "They're like some kind of twisted police force," Tilly noted.

"Yeah," Glenn smirked, "if the police showed up at your door once a month and took all of your shit."

"You guys are seriously ok with this?" Tilly blurted, not wanting to beat a dead horse, but curious as to what the other residents thought. She imagined they'd be more candid without a leader nearby.

"Fuck no," Michael guffawed. "We risk our asses to provide for our people, not to feed a bunch of lazy-ass perverts."

"They kidnapped my sister-in-law, you know," Glenn shared, the other men's eyes growing wide. "Some other community around here snatched her all the way back in Georgia and brought her back up here to _trade_. It's sick."

"The little blonde?" Heath asked, not sure of the girl's name.

"Yes," Tilly answered, "Beth. She escaped and luckily she and I ran into each other. Who knows what he would have done if he had found her."

"Does Douglas know?" Michael pried, suddenly uncomfortable with the information. "I mean, that could cause some serious issues, us hiding her."

"He knows," she replied, shooting him a '_you better keep your mouth shut, too'_ look. "He said the responsibility fell to us to keep her hidden from his men, but he wouldn't blab."

"Good," Heath nodded. "Girl like her doesn't deserve to be stuck in a place like that. Hell, no woman does."

"Any idea who may have taken her to begin with?" Glenn asked curiously. "Could it have been the Hilltop? That's the only other community we've heard mentioned."

Heath shook his head. "I doubt it. They're large enough that they can bring in enough supplies to keep Negan satisfied without having to resort to that. There are several smaller groups set up within fifty miles or so, though. I'd imagine it was one of them."

The rest of the way to their destination Heath and Michael took turns sharing tidbits about the settlement and the surrounding area. Both Tilly and Glenn were thankful for the information and made mental notes to share it with the rest of their group. Heath even gave them a general idea of where two other Savior outposts were.

Eventually they pulled into the parking lot of what once was a large superstore. A few of the windows were busted out and trash littered the parking lot, but it looked deserted. Down the road a bit they could see a small downtown, several shops lining it on either side.

"Where do we start?" Tilly asked, climbing out of the car and situating her various weapons. "Are we tackling the superstore or have you already hit it?"

"We held off last time we came because it was just the three of us," Michael replied, "but I'm a little more comfortable going in there with an extra man." He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, _woman._"

Tilly chuckled and nodded her approval as she quickly inventoried the ammo she had and stashed some extra from the duffle bag into her pockets. "I've been dying to do some shopping," she joked.

"Hopefully we'll avoid the _dying_ part," Glenn quipped, his baseball bat gripped tightly in his left hand as he holstered his pistol on his right hip.

The group made quick work of readying their weapons and securing the van before making their way toward the superstore. The once active automatic doors were long-since-dead, and Tilly wedged her crowbar into the small gap between them while Heath and Michael helped to pull them apart.

"We need to draw them out first," Glenn suggested. "Make some noise to get any geeks that may be waiting in there to come to us. We don't want any surprises."

Heath nodded in agreement and pointed to Tilly. She understood, and began banging her crowbar against the hard tile floor, the noise echoing through the dim building.

"Now we wait," she said quietly, holding her weapon up and preparing for whatever came out.

It didn't take long for the familiar guttural growls of several walkers to reach their ears. The first one to appear donned a royal blue vest, the store's name embroidered on the breast pocket. Her light hair was matted with dark blood and a piece of her cheek was ripped away, revealing one full side of her flesh-speckled teeth. The thing snarled as Tilly approached, and from the corner of her eye she saw the men making their way toward a few other imposing corpses.

Tilly kicked the walker solidly in the leg and it crashed to the floor, still grasping wildly at the redhead. In one swift movement she brought the crowbar down and slammed the sharper end through the thing's skull, giving it one more strike afterward just to be safe.

Immediately, she looked up to examine the situation surrounding her. The men were spread out, each braining another walker, and there looked to be only a handful of undead left.

"Not as bad as I thought it'd be," Glenn grunted, swinging his bat and connecting with a rotting skull.

Tilly ran quickly toward her friend, just catching another walker as it crept up behind him. She flung the decaying man away from him and rammed her crowbar into his eye socket. Glenn nodded to her in appreciation.

It only took a few minutes for the group to clear the front of the store. When they were sure the bodies lying around them were no longer moving they stood quietly for a moment, listening for the tell-tale sign that more awaited them inside.

"I don't hear anything," Michael observed after a minute. "That doesn't mean there aren't more, though." He turned to the others as he sheathed his knife. "There may be some trapped in here who aren't mobile, or maybe they're just far in the back, but be careful. We'll work in pairs. No one goes anywhere alone, got it?"

The others nodded, and they quickly split into two pairs.

"You wanna ride in my cart?" Tilly teased as Glenn wrestled to pull a stuck buggy from the cart-return.

"Very funny," he chuckled, finally working the stubborn thing free.

The pair was put in charge of finding medical supplies and hygiene items, so they rolled their way toward the health and beauty section. A large sign that read _Pharmacy_ hung above a set of glassless windows, a roll-down metal gate locked tightly in front of them.

Glenn shook his head after a failed attempt to open the gate. "This oughta be fun," he grumbled. "How 'bout you bring that crowbar over here and make yourself useful."

Tilly stuck her tongue out at the young man cheekily as she set the armful of shampoo she was carrying into her cart and made her way over. After a bit of wrestling and tugging, the two were finally able to break the lock on the gate and push it away, creating a gap large enough for them to enter.

"You have a flashlight?" Glenn asked, looking over his shoulder as he stood half-way on the counter.

"I don't," Tilly shook her head, "but it shouldn't be hard to find one in here." She gestured to the plethora of products surrounding them. "Let's run over to the outdoor section real quick. We may find some other things we need over there, anyway."

Glenn nodded and hopped down from the counter, leaving his shopping cart sitting in front of the pharmacy and following Tilly as she pushed hers toward the camping gear farther back in the store.

A minute later they found themselves standing in front of a large display of various flashlights and lanterns. "These will make good weapons, too," Tilly smiled, admiring a heavy, black Maglite before tossing it into her cart. Glenn followed suit and chose a few more of the large lights to take with them before grabbing all of the batteries he could find in the vicinity.

He worked to open one of the large flashlights and install batteries while Tilly wandered the aisles nearby. She noticed the glint of metal on one of the end caps and walked over to examine the small selection of knives that hung there.

One in particular caught her eye. It was a large hunting knife, the long blade a dark metal with a serrated tip. The black, rubberized handle was thick, making it easier to grip. She pulled her pack off of her shoulder and unzipped it, stuffing the weapon inside, before gathering several more of the knives in her arms and returning to place them in the cart.

"Can't hurt to have more of these," she shrugged as Glenn looked over her haul. "You got that thing working yet?" She was met with a bright beam shone directly in her eyes, and she threw her hand up to cover them. "Smartass," she grumbled. "Let's wrap it up here and get back to the pharmacy."

They strolled quickly through the rest of the outdoor section, managing to find several bundles of rope, a few large grill lighters and a couple of thick blue tarps.

"That should do it," Glenn nodded, taking one last glance over the area. "I guess living inside those walls we won't have any need for anything else over here."

"I guess not," Tilly replied, thinking back to their time on the road. "You think we should grab some other stuff for, ya know, _us?_ Just in case things go south?"

"You mean in case we have to run?" he asked. "I don't think so. Not right now, anyway. We don't have any way to hide it, and if Negan's men check our vehicle on our way back they might get suspicious."

She considered his words for a moment, rubbing her fingers over her chin before nodding and turning wordlessly toward the pharmacy, leaving him to follow her with the cart.

Other than one rogue walker trapped in the pharmacy, which Glenn easily dispatched with his bat, the rest of their time in the store was uneventful. Once they had filled their carts they made their way out to the van to meet with Heath and Michael.

Michael let out a whoop as they approached, admiring their payload. "Looks like you guys had some luck," he smiled. "Anything good?"

"We found a bunch of knives," Tilly informed him. "There's a bunch of toiletries, some nice flashlights, rope, some feminine products, vitamins…"

"The pharmacy was almost untouched," Glenn continued. "Found some pain killers, antibiotics, bandages, and different kinds of ointment. What about you guys?"

Heath gestured to the things he'd already loaded into the van. "The food was picked over, but we found some canned vegetables, a case of tuna, then other less-necessary things like sugar and spices."

"Do I see coffee in there?" Tilly smirked. "Because if it is, I might just kiss you right now."

Heath blushed a little as he nodded, adjusting his glasses a bit. "Even found some shelf-stable creamer," he added.

"I might kiss you myself," Glenn chuckled, practically jumping up and down at the thought of the warm, comforting liquid.

"We got a lot of clothing, too," Michael injected. "Even found several pair of heavy boots. I think Douglas will be pretty pleased with this haul."

The group worked quickly to stuff their treasures into the van, but it wasn't long until the familiar smell of death began to waft toward them from the direction of the town. Almost simultaneously, they whipped their heads in that direction and were met with what appeared to be at least fifty undead shambling toward them.

"Shit," Michael hissed, scrambling to toss the last of their finds into the vehicle. "We have to get out of here. We can't handle that many."

Suddenly, an idea burst into Tilly's mind. "You know who else won't be able to handle them?" The men looked at her, confusion written on their faces. "Those guys at the outpost. It's not far from here. I have an idea," she grinned mischievously. "Get in the van."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Heath spat as they climbed into the van and he started the engine.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't love to knock those assholes down a peg," she insisted, and was met by silence. "We risked our lives for the stuff in this van, and they're going to take half of it. You can't tell me you're going to sit by and let that happen."

"But if Negan finds out…" Michael began.

"He won't," Glenn interrupted, realizing Tilly's plan. "A herd came through," he said innocently. "It's tragic, really, not a single survivor."


	29. Chapter 29

**Hey, guys! Sorry I've been so slow to update lately. Life has smacked me in the face a bit recently, so I haven't had much free time to read/write. Hopefully these updates will pick back up soon. This chapter and the next may seem a bit fillery, but I wanted to take some time to introduce the people of ASZ and touch base with our survivors. As much as I love writing Tilly and Daryl (and there's plenty of them in this chapter, don't worry), the others are just as important to the movement of the story. I have big plans for the coming chapters, and I can't wait to share them with you. **

**Thanks for taking the time to read, and a big thank you to those of you who have followed/reviewed. Keep it up (please)!**

**xo**

"You understand what will happen if Douglas finds out we took matters into our own hands?" Heath cautioned, wary of what Tilly and Glenn were brewing.

"There's no way he'd find out," she replied. "We'll just drive nice and slow, lead the herd in that direction, then put a little distance between us right before we reach the checkpoint. By the time the walkers get there we'll be long-gone, and they'll have their hands full."

"What good does that do?" Michael prodded, the wheels in his head turning as he took in the confident look in her eyes. "I mean, at most they lose six or seven guys. That will barely make a dent."

"You're right," Glenn replied, "it won't put them out of business or anything, but it'll still be a blow. There's no way you'd ever been able to beat them head-on, so if you ever want out of this _arrangement _it'll have to be done piece-by-piece."

"And in such a way that he can't trace it back to us and put a stop to it," Tilly finished.

The men remained silent for a moment, keeping an eye on the approaching herd as they crept slowly toward the van.

"Gonna have to decide quickly," Tilly encouraged. "Those things are coming for us either way. Why not use them to our advantage?"

"What do you think, Heath?" Michael asked. "I mean, they're right. We risk out lives out here and they reap the benefit."

Heath let out a loud sigh and put the van in gear. "Not a word of this reaches Douglas," he conceded, "do you all understand?"

The other three nodded their heads rapidly.

"Alright, then," he breathed. "I guess we're having us a slow, scenic drive back home."

The previously short drive back to the Saviors' outpost took them nearly an hour, the van creeping along and staying just ahead of the dead. When they got a quarter-of-a-mile away Heath sped up, wanting to get their inevitable encounter with the Saviors over with so they could be gone before the chaos started.

He rolled down his window and smiled nervously at the rugged men as he stopped in front of them.

"All done," he announced, the same guys from earlier approaching the vehicle.

"What'd ya find?" the younger one asked curiously, a clipboard held tightly in his hands as he took notes.

"Some medicine, a little bit of food," Tilly replied, "a few knives, clothing, flashlights and some rope, plus a few other odds and ends."

"Odds and ends?" The man raised an eyebrow as he studied her face.

Tilly shrugged. "Nothing too exciting. A couple of tarps, batteries, coffee. Stuff like that."

He continued examining her expression for a moment and she silently prayed he wouldn't want to sort through everything. It wasn't that they had anything to hide, but the walkers would undoubtedly make their appearance soon. Eventually he nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and gestured for them to move along.

They all collectively exhaled as they rolled away, none of them realizing they had even been holding their breath.

"Piece of cake," Tilly chuckled, though the nerves in her voice were evident. Even though it was her plan, she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was always a margin for error, no matter how simple a mission seemed.

"Let's get home," Michael sighed, patting Heath on the shoulder. "I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough excitement today. I need a nap."

"Amen to that," Glenn agreed, wriggling a bit to get comfortable in the now-cramped van.

"Where'd you learn to shoot?"

"Same place everyone did," Sasha answered, "on the road." The man she spoke to was Spencer, the man in charge of the watch crew.

"You're good," he smiled, pushing a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "Do you have any experience with sniper rifles?"

Sasha nodded proudly. "That's mostly what I used when we were based out of the prison. It made the most sense since we kept watch in the guard towers. Most of our group are pretty decent with them."

"None as good as you, I bet." The flirtation in his voice was evident, but Sasha chose to ignore his tone. "I'd really like to start utilizing the clock tower more as a point of watch," he continued more seriously. "We've had good luck just keeping watch from the wall, but it can't hurt to add another line of sight."

"You have another sniper around here?" she questioned.

Spencer nodded. "We have Brian and Travis, both former military. They're excellent shots. I think Maggie measures up, too."

"She's a good shot," Sasha agreed. "A four-person rotation up there sounds like it could work well."

"Wouldn't give any of you much time off," he observed.

Sasha just shrugged. "Don't know what I'd do with free time anyway, to be honest. Not really used to feeling safe enough to sit around and relax."

"Do you feel safe here?" he pried, taking a seat on top of a picnic table.

Sasha allowed herself to plop down next to him, her rifle laid across her lap. "Getting there," she said honestly. "It'll take some time, though."

"You have all the time in the world now," he grinned, laying his hand on her knee.

"Once we unload everything, you guys can have your pick of what you want," Heath instructed the group as they piled out of the van, securely within the confines of the safe zone. "That's the one perk to this job."

The group made quick work of removing their payload and piling it on the pavement, with instructions from Michael to just leave it there for the commissary workers to sort. Tilly bent down and began to poke through the pile, collecting the things she thought would prove useful: A pair of pants and extra socks for Daryl, a thick jacket for herself, a can of instant coffee, some toiletries, a flashlight and some batteries. She stuck her treasures carefully in her pack and zipped it up before replacing it over her shoulder.

She glanced over at Glenn who had finished his own looting and was rising to his feet. "Walk me home?" she asked with a grin.

"Of course, m'lady," he drawled, giving her an exaggerated bow before offering her his arm to take. She laughed as she looped hers through it and the pair began the trek back to their part of town.

"You think it worked?" she asked quietly, readjusting her bag.

"We can hope," the young man sighed. "Should we tell Rick what we did? I mean, he should know about any action we take, but on the other hand…"

"He's going to be pissed the fuck off that we acted on our own," Tilly finished, drawing a nod from Glenn. "I think we should keep this between us for now."

"You going to tell Daryl?" he questioned, glancing over at her as they walked.

Tilly remained quiet for a moment, weighing her options. "Maybe," she replied. "He might have some insight as far as whether we should let Sheriff Grimes in on that piece of information."

"Or he might be pissed the fuck off," Glenn recited. "He gets all scowly and quiet when he thinks you're in danger. It's kind of terrifying."

Tilly laughed heartily at his observation. "I was never in any danger," she assured him. "We were safe in the car, and there's no way that can be traced back to us."

Glenn nodded thoughtfully. "Hopefully he'll see it that way." He placed his other hand on Tilly's, gently encouraging her to release it from where it was wrapped through his arm, as the familiar blue house came into sight. "This is your stop," he smiled. "Good luck. I'll see you after dinner."

"See you then," she smiled before making her way up the front steps and into her new home.

The place was quiet, no sign of movement visible downstairs. She set her bag on the floor before removing her soiled sweatshirt and hanging it over the banister.

"That you, Matilda?" Daryl's gruff voice called from upstairs.

"No," she called playfully, "just a burglar."

"Get on out of here then," he yelled, a hint of humor in his voice, "'fore I have to put an arrow in your ass."

"Sounds kinky," she laughed, picking up her bag and making her way upstairs to the bedroom.

Daryl sat on the floor fiddling with his crossbow, and he rose as she entered the room and set her pack on the bed. He made his way over to her and she wasted no time wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to hers. He squeezed her tightly around the waist as she pulled her face back and looked up at the hunter.

"Glad ya'll made it back ok," he smiled, placing another kiss on her forehead. "Find anything good?"

"I have presents for you!" she announced happily, pulling herself away and nearly skipping over to the bed. He sat beside her as she rustled through her bag and began to lay her finds out in front of him.

"Sweet new flashlight," she narrated, holding up the Maglite with a huge grin. "I got you some clothes. They should fit well enough. And," she paused, "I got you this."

She held up the large hunting knife proudly, elated when Daryl's eyes lit up at the sight. "That's pretty badass," he replied, taking the weapon from her and examining it closely. "Thanks."

"Thought you'd like it," she smiled as she watched him turn the blade over and over in his hand.

"Everything go smoothly?" he asked casually, already assuming it had since she had made it back in one piece.

She hesitated for a moment, debating internally whether she should tell him about the walker attack they launched on the Saviors. "We found one of the Negan's outposts," she admitted.

He immediately turned his attention away from the blade and narrowed his eyes at her intensely.

"They didn't give us any trouble," she assured him. "We just had to check in with them as we passed through, but on the way back we, uh…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away as she regretted even beginning the sentence.

"What?" he questioned, his eyes growing dark as placed a hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "What did you do on the way back?"

"Well," she began softly, "we ran into a huge herd as we were leaving the store. There were probably hundreds of the things. We had enough time to get away safely, but-" Her voice faltered again, already weary of the inevitable lecture she was about to receive.

"Spit it out, girl," he encouraged, his voice remarkably serious.

"We led the herd back toward their outpost," she admitted, pulling away a bit and examining his face as he sat uncomfortably still, his stare boring through her face. "We just drove nice and slow, made sure they were following, until we got close, then we sped up so we had enough time to get through there before the geeks showed up."

"Rick put you up to that?" he hissed. He had become more and more frustrated with the leader and his seeming desire to keep putting Tilly in positions where she could get hurt.

"No," Tilly shook her head furiously. "How could he have known there'd be a herd, anyway? He wasn't there. It was my idea."

He stood up quickly and began to pace the room in front of her, a sure sign that he wasn't happy with her revelation, but said nothing.

"It's _fine_," she encouraged, standing from the bed herself. "We were never in any real danger, and there's no way they'd ever know it was our fault. Those things will wipe out the outpost and we'll have a few less Saviors to deal with. I don't see the issue."

Daryl shook his head in frustration and turned to face her. "You've gotta quit going rogue like that," he scolded, though his tone was softer than she'd anticipated. His words were filled with worry rather than rage. "What if you guys had gotten cut off by another herd with that one shamblin' behind you, huh? What would you have done then?"

Tilly remained silent, knowing he had a point.

He sighed deeply and put his hands on her shoulders, squaring her in front of him and looking her in the eye. "What's done is done, but you _have_ to stop pulling this shit."

"You going to tell Rick?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically sheepish.

Daryl shook his head. "You know I ain't gonna throw you under the bus like that, girl." She nodded knowingly and offered him a small smile, glad she could trust him. "You got the other guys on the run to go along with it?"

"They were hesitant," she answered, "but yeah. They hate risking their asses to supply the Saviors. It didn't take much convincing, especially with that herd coming toward us. We had to make a decision quickly."

His face tensed a bit at the mention of the herd. "They going to keep quiet? Can't imagine the old senator'd be too happy if he found out about it."

"Telling him would mean incriminating themselves, too," she noted. "They'll stay quiet. Glenn will too, obviously."

"Alright," he nodded thoughtfully. "Where all did you guys go?"

Tilly smirked, glad for the subject change. "We just had time to hit the superstore before the herd showed up. We found plenty of stuff, though." She pulled the can of coffee out of her bag and held it up proudly. "This is probably my favorite find," she announced. "When's the last time you had caffeine?"

A grin spread over his lips as he eyed the treasure. "Hell if I know," he answered, taking the tin from her and examining it.

"Shame we don't have any cream to put in it," she sighed. "We need to find us some cows, get some dairy goin' on up in this place."

Daryl rolled his eyes and tossed the can back to her. "Guess you'll just have to drink it black," he chuckled. "It'll toughen ya up."

"You implying I'm not tough _already_, Daryl Dixon," she teased, shoving him playfully as she stood from the bed.

He laughed as he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to sit across his lap. His warm hand brushed lightly across her cheek, his feather-light touch in stark contrast to his rough appearance. "You're the toughest person I know," he admitted quietly.

Tilly just shook her head. "Second to you, maybe."

The next week passed without incident as the survivors settled into a new routine in Alexandria.

Beth spent her days happily working in the garden. Though the weather was turning colder, and the yield was less-than-spectacular, she took great comfort in tending to the plants. She could practically hear her father's voice as she remembered all of his gardening lessons back on the farm. She could imagine the warm look in his kind eyes as she'd present him with a basket of vegetables she'd grown on her own.

_"__The Lord has provided us this bounty," _he'd tell her, _"with the aide of your hand. You were blessed with a green thumb, my dear."_

She smiled at the memory as she yanked another handful of carrots from the ground and placed them into the old shopping basket hung over her arm. Their green foliage spilled over the red, plastic rim, dirt shaking through the holes in the bottom of the carrier with every step she took.

"Those things weren't looking so hot when you got here," a woman's voice called from behind the girl. "You've really helped perk them up."

"Thank you, Jessie," Beth turned to smile up at the older woman. "My daddy always said I was blessed with the gift of healing. I suppose that applies to vegetables, too."

Jessie chuckled a bit and reached forward to take the now-heavy basket from Beth, looping it over her long arm. The woman and Beth had developed a kinship as they worked together in the garden. Jessie looked to be in her late-30s with a kind face and dark hair that was cut into a long bob.

"How are you doing?" Beth asked politely. She couldn't help but notice that there was always a hint of sadness behind the woman's eyes. The pair still weren't close enough for her to pry too much, but she always made sure to ask how she was, just so she knew someone cared.

"Fine, thank you," she answered quietly with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I finally found that trowel you needed," Carol called as she made her way into sight, holding out the small instrument to Beth. She nodded to Jessie as well in greeting, allowing her eyes to stealthily dance over the dark-haired woman.

Jessie was someone Carol had taken an immediate interest in. Her kind, submissive manner reminded her of the way she used to be, back before Ed was ripped to pieces and she was finally liberated. Her eyes focused in on the arm that held the basket of carrots. Where Jessie's sleeve had crept up a little, she swore she could see the hint of purple and green on her wrist. She knew a thing or two about covering bruises herself.

She made a point of studying Jessie any time she saw her interacting with her husband, Pete. He was one of the doctors in the town and as such was generally revered by the community. He presented himself well, his demeanor friendly, but the way his wife and their son seemed to shrink into themselves when they were around him set off her internal alarm.

"How's your position treating you so far, Carol?" Jessie inquired politely, tugging her sleeve down absently around her wrist.

Carol offered the fidgeting woman a soft smile as she responded. "It's wonderful. All I do is cook and chat with the old folks all day, listen to them tell stories about the good ole days. Quite the change from all the running and fighting we'd been doing."

"I'm sure," Jessie nodded, returning her smile as she began to back away from the pair of women. "It's been nice seeing you both, but I have to run off to take Pete some lunch at the clinic. He won't be pleased if I'm late."

_I bet he won't_, Carol thought to herself, forcing a wave as she bit down on her tongue.

"You see it too, don't you," Beth said softly once Jessie was out of earshot.

"I'm sure I'm more aware to the signs than most," Carol responded, her eyes still watching the other woman's back as she made her way out of sight, "but it doesn't take a genius to see what's going on."

"What can we do?" The young blonde was visibly distressed, the knot in her gut telling her she needed to do something to assist.

Carol just shook her head. "There's nothing we _can_ do," she answered flatly. "She has to figure it out for herself."


	30. Chapter 30

_"__Morning, Tills." Lana adjusted the hem of her dark red shirt a bit before grabbing two coffee mugs off of the counter and handing one to Tilly as she reached the bottom of the stairs. _

_"__Where have you been?" Tilly asked quietly as she accepted the cup, bringing it to her lips as she made her way to sit at the small dining room table. "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."_

_"__I know," Lana nodded, taking the seat across from her friend. "I've been busy, but I've been watching."_

_Tilly sighed and nodded sadly, training her eyes down to the steam rising from her cup. "Things aren't bad here, Lan. I feel awful for being happy when you're…" Her voice trailed off, unable to bring herself to say the word. _

_"__Dead," Lana completed frankly. "I'm dead, but you aren't. I'm glad we found the group before it happened. I wouldn't be able to stand it if I knew I'd left you alone."_

_"__Do you know how this ends?" Tilly asked vaguely. "I mean, from where you are now, do you know what's going to happen to us?" _

_"__Would you want me to tell you if I did?" _

_Tilly considered Lana's words for a moment, wondering if knowing would make any difference. Though she had begun to settle in to Alexandria, she often wondered if they were really just in the eye before the storm. "I just want to know if we're safe," she answered. "I want to know if we're fooling ourselves into thinking life can be what it was again." _

_Lana nodded knowingly and took another sip of her coffee. "What is it about this place that makes you feel safe?" she questioned. _

_"__The walls, the people," Tilly listed. "There's electricity here, running water. It feels like I'm living in suburbia, not the apocalypse."_

_Lana chuckled a bit and Tilly raised her head to meet her friend's eyes. "Walls can fall, Matilda," she responded, "and people are the most dangerous part of this world."_

_"__So, we aren't safe?" _

_"__Me," Lana began, "Joe, Rick's wife, my mom… we're the only ones who are safe anymore."_

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Tilly couldn't shake the words from her dream as she got ready the next morning. Daryl had left before she woke to head into the woods, and the quiet house forced her to be alone with her thoughts.

She made her way over to the small notebook that sat on her nightstand, adding another tally mark to the page. "Day thirty-five," she said to herself as she quickly counted the marks.

That day was one she had dreaded for weeks- another visit from the Saviors. Though they had heard nothing of the result of the herd they led to the outpost she was still nervous that they would be found out, despite the confidence she'd had when she first pitched the idea.

A knock on the front door startled her out of her thoughts and she made her way downstairs, throwing her jacket over her shoulders on her way down.

"Hey, Maggie," she smiled as she opened the door to the brunette. "What's up?"

Maggie stepped past her into the house and folded her arms over her chest. "This is going to sound stupid," she began, "but it was Beth's idea."

"Uh oh," Tilly chuckled. "What is it?"

"She wants to have a girls' night," she admitted. "Like a sleepover."

Tilly just stared at her for a moment, a smirk across her lips as she thought it over.

"I told you it was silly," Maggie chuckled, "but I guess I don't see the harm."

"We going to braid each other's hair and talk about boys?" Tilly teased.

"Something like that," she replied, "but Glenn managed to snag a few bottles of liquor on that last run, so…"

"So, it's really just an excuse for us to get drunk and not have to deal with the guys?" Tilly completed, making Maggie throw back her head and laugh as she nodded. "I wondered why Glenn insisted on grabbing that while we were out, but I guess I'll have to thank him. Have you talked to any of the others about it yet?"

"Yeah," Maggie answered, "Michonne, Carol, Tara, and Rosita are all in so far."

"What about Ashton?" Tilly asked. Though the young girl had been amongst them for weeks, she still only really spoke to Carol unless necessary. She was nice enough, but they couldn't help but be a bit unnerved by her demeanor.

"Carol is working on that," she replied. "It'd be nice to have some time to get to know her. Maybe it will bring her out of her shell."

"Or it will be horribly awkward," Tilly responded thoughtfully. "Count me in, though. I'm sure we'll all need a drink after dealing with the Saviors today."

Maggie nodded knowingly and leaned back on the door frame. "How long you think til he figures out Beth's here?"

"He won't," Tilly assured her. "There's no reason he'd ever find out. She knows to stay hidden."

Maggie shook her head. "All it takes is one _surprise_ visit and it could all be blown. She can't just stay in the house all the time."

"She doesn't need to. Those guys aren't ones for stealthy entrances. We'll always have time to get her out of sight." She could see that Maggie wasn't convinced but she nodded anyway, her eyes trained on her shoes.

"So," Maggie began, changing the subject, "what are you doing today? Glenn said you aren't going on another run until the day after tomorrow."

"I promised Olivia I'd help do some inventory," she replied. "I figure that will give me the chance to do some more recon when those assholes show up."

"You mean you're not excited to see your new best friend again?" Maggie teased.

"I'm sure it will be a riot."

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"You sure you're feeling alright?" Michonne prodded, laying her palm on Morgan's forehead. "You're not looking so hot."

"You sure know how to make a man feel good," he smiled wearily. "It's just a bug," he assured her. "Just need to sleep it off."

"I'll let Douglas know you won't be by today," she replied, pulling the covers higher around him and laying a kiss on his cheek.

At Rick's recommendation, Morgan had been recruited as a sort of security advisor to Douglas. He had managed to build a fortress around his camp back in his hometown and Rick knew he'd have a lot of ideas on how to fortify the perimeter of the safe zone. So far, they had succeeded in placing a row of wooden spikes nearly all the way around the place to skewer any walkers that would get close. It was a great way to conserve their bullets. _'We need to save those for the real threat," Morgan had said. _

"I guess you have a busy day ahead of you," he said quietly, his voice barely registering in her ears.

Michonne nodded as she began backing toward the door. "Rick wants us to chat those guys up again, not that they're going to just offer us anything useful anyway."

"I'm sure you'll learn something," he responded. "No one can get anything past you."

That drew a genuine smile from her as she shoved a pistol into the holster on her hip. "Get some sleep. I'll come check on you before I go to Maggie's later."

With that, she made her way outside, the weight of the day to come already hanging over her head.

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"We're going to have to start rationing the flour a little closer," Olivia remarked, recounting the bags stacked onto a large metal shelf in the corner of the room.

"I'll try to remember to keep an eye out for more on our next run," Tilly responded as she sorted through cans of assorted vegetables. Several mason jars of carrots were amongst them and she figured that must have been the work of Beth. "Seems like the garden has been doing pretty well. Hopefully we won't have to resort to the mushy canned stuff for a while."

"I just hope we'll have enough to make it through the winter," Olivia replied. "The last one was pretty sparse. Winters here are no joke."

"I'm sure I'll be missing the south plenty when the temperatures start dipping below freezing," she responded.

"Do you ever miss it out there?" Olivia dared to ask, making Tilly whip her head around to the curly-headed woman. "I know that's a weird thing to ask, but I could see how things would almost seem _boring_ here after all the adventures you've had."

"They were hardly _adventures_," Tilly hissed, working to keep her temper under control as she regarded the ignorant remark. "We spent the whole time we were out there fearing for our lives. We watched our friends die horrible, painful deaths. We saw things worse than you could ever imagine." She paused for a moment to regain her composure, realizing there was a hint of fear behind Olivia's eyes. "Trust me when I say that _boring_ is a welcome change."

She expected Olivia to rush to apologize, but instead she just nodded and turned back to the shelf. "The people here are weak," the woman remarked flatly. "_I'm_ weak. None of us would make it out there."

"No," Tilly shook her head. "We were all just like you before we were forced to live in this world. You become strong when that's the only option you have."

"Do you think you could teach me some things?" Olivia asked, turning back to face her, clipboard in hand. "I mean, survival things. Just in case."

"I could teach you how to use weapons," she answered, her tone returning to its normal friendliness. "You should talk to Daryl about the other stuff, though. He's always been more resourceful than the rest of us. He's been surviving out there a lot longer than the dead have been walking."

"He's a little intimidating," Olivia said bashfully. "I mean, he seems like a good guy, but he doesn't exactly give off the 'let's chat and be best friends' vibe, ya know?"

That drew a chuckle from Tilly. "Oh, I know," she laughed, "it takes him a while to warm up, but I don't think he'd mind showing you. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"If you don't mind," Olivia smiled, grateful for her help. "Really, it wouldn't be a bad idea for you guys to maybe hold some sort of classes for everyone. Those walls are only _so_ thick, you know."

Tilly couldn't help the proud smile that swept across her face. "You're smart, Olivia," she remarked.

The moment was broken when the door to the building flew open. "They're here," a man's voice called from the front, and the women exchanged a startled look before quickly laying down their clipboards.

"Thanks, Tobin!" Olivia called back to him before turning to Tilly. The redhead had never actually witnessed the collection of supplies by the Saviors, but she could tell Olivia had been at the heart of it for a long time. "There are some boxes behind the building," she instructed. "Go grab as many as you can and bring them in here so they're ready for them. They'll handle loading them for the most part."

Tilly nodded silently and ran to do as she was told. Sure enough, there was a large pile of cardboard boxes piled in the small back yard and she worked to stack as many as she could so they were easy to carry.

"My, my," a loud, bass voice called from behind her as she bent down to pick them up, "if this isn't just the best fucking view to walk up to. It must be my birthday."

She cringed as she immediately registered the source, but choked down her disgust and pasted on a smile as she turned to face him. "It's not polite to stare, Negan," she teased as she looked up at his looming form over the boxes in her arms.

"And it's not fucking polite for them to be making the women do all the heavy lifting now is it, Xena?" he chuckled, reaching forward to take the boxes from her.

She allowed him to grab them and he moved to take them inside, gesturing for her to follow.

"Oh, joy," she murmured under her breath.

"And how are you today, Curly Sue?" he called in an overly friendly voice as the Olivia came into sight.

"I'm doing fine, thank you," she replied with much less enthusiasm, and Tilly could see a few of his men were already in there stripping what they wanted from the shelves.

"What's Red doing working in here now, anyway? Thought they'd stuck her with those other assholes making supply runs," he questioned, glancing over his shoulder at Tilly.

"How'd you know about that?" she questioned, suddenly nervous.

"You guys crossed one of our checkpoints a few weeks back, if you remember," he responded as he set the boxes down and stepped closer to her. "Damn shame," he sighed dramatically, looking her in the eye. "I'm sure you'll just be fucking devastated to hear that a bunch of dead fucks attacked my men after you guys went through."

"Shit," Tilly forced, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it, "they alright?"

"Not fucking likely," he laughed. "Killed all but one of my men. He made it back and let us know what happened."

"How _did_ it happen?" she asked cooly. "I mean, we only saw a few walkers while we were out, definitely not more than they could handle."

"Hell if I know," he shrugged. "Those ugly bastards seem to show up out of thin fucking air sometimes."

"Ain't that the truth," she scoffed, the tiniest amount of relief washing over her.

He continued staring at her for a moment before turning toward his men. "You guys take care of this," he ordered. "Xena here is going to give me the grand-fucking-tour!"

"There's really nothing exciting t-"

She was cut off when his large hand clapped onto her shoulder and effortlessly turned her back toward the door. Tilly didn't have time to protest before they were already back on the sidewalk in front of the building.

"Why don't you introduce me to the rest of your group?" Tilly knew it wasn't merely a suggestion and nodded helplessly, an awkward smile plastered on her face.

"They're all working," she offered, "but I'll see who I can find."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he roared, clapping his hands together so loudly it made her jump. To say he put her on edge was an understatement, though she was sure that he wasn't stupid enough to harm her right in the middle of town.

After walking for a few minutes she tensed as she saw Michonne come into view. She knew she wasn't going to be thrilled at the introduction and considered passing her by, but Negan was more observant than she had already assumed.

"I take it the amazon is one of yours?" he pried, not waiting for a response before waving at the other woman. A scowl was planted firmly on Michonne's face as she made her way over to the odd pair.

"This is Michonne," Tilly recited, gesturing toward her friend. "Michonne, this is Negan. He wants to meet the people from our group."

"Charmed," Michonne hissed as she carefully studied the man.

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest fucking thing," he laughed, her cold demeanor seeming to amuse him. "What are you in charge of around here?"

"Security." Though Michonne had opened up to their group, and many of the people of Alexandria, she reverted right back to her old, stoic ways in his presence. She wasn't going to give him any more information than she needed to keep up appearances.

"Damn, chatterbox! No need to talk my fucking ear off," he quipped, his lips twisted into an overly friendly grin. "I hear that leader of yours in the new fucking law in town. You his deputy?"

"Something like that," she answered flatly.

"Is Rick around?" Tilly cut in.

Michonne kept her eyes trained on Negan as she answered. "He's patrolling the wall on the north side."

"A patrol?" Negan said condescendingly. "How very fucking organized of you. I'm not sure these inept assholes could even spell 'patrol' before you all showed up. Seems you've really helped spruce the place up."

"We're good at that," Michonne mumbled, taking a step away from the large man. "I've gotta go check on Morgan. He wasn't feeling well this morning. I'll see you tonight, Tilly." With that, she turned on her heel and glided quickly away in the other direction.

"She's just Miss Congeniality now, isn't she?" Negan chuckled to Tilly as she began to lead him toward the north side of town.

"She's slow to warm up," she replied, keeping her eyes straight ahead as she searched for the sheriff. "Rick's a better conversationalist, I promise."

As they passed through the small settlement, Tilly could feel all of the residents' eyes on her. They had no idea of her group's plans, and she feared they'd start to think she was getting too chummy Negan. That was a risk she just had to take, though. She was doing it for their benefit as well as her own and couldn't risk blowing her cover. As far as she knew, Negan could have had a mole in the town who could easily turn her over if she said something to the wrong person.

As if reading her mind, Negan spoke up. "They're all looking at you like you're fucking the enemy," he observed.

"I don't particularly care what they think," she lied. "Plus, I figure it's better to stay on your good side than theirs."

"Smart fucking girl," he laughing, patting her roughly on the back.

"I see Rick," she announced a minute later as the familiar man stepped out of an alley and into the street. She raised a hand and waved, him returning the gesture as he made his way over.

As she suspected, Rick was much better than Michonne at playing the part of being friendly. He smiled graciously and extended his hand when he got close to them.

"I don't believe we've met," he said as Negan accepted his hand and shook it firmly, "I'm Rick Grimes."

"Negan," he answered, a sinister smile playing on his face. "You must be one hell of a leader to keep your people alive out there for so long. What's your secret?"

"Shoot first, ask questions later," Rick replied seriously, though his face remained friendly. "We put family above all else, have each other's backs."

"Well, ain't that just lovely," Negan drawled, mocking the other man's accent. "Warms me all the way down to my nether regions."

"I'm sure you feel the same way about your people," Rick commented, clearly testing the man.

"We're just one big happy family, me and those goons," he laughed.

"You have any actual family left?" Tilly dared to ask.

"It's just me and Lucille," he replied. "She's the only family I need."

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The next couple of hours were awkward, to say the least, as Tilly escorted Negan around town introducing him to whoever she came across. He seemed to get the biggest kick out of Eugene. Tilly had been careful to catch him away from the research building, and hoped he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about all of the new developments they had been working on. The last thing she wanted was for the Saviors to start stealing technology, too.

Luckily, Eugene seemed to have his head on straight that day and merely shared that they were working on a way to build a windmill, leaving out the fact that he spent most of _his_ time figuring out how to produce ammo. His pretentiousness and general clumsiness proved remarkably amusing to the leader, and after a few terrible jokes they were making their way toward the front gates, where the rest of the Saviors waited by their truck.

"Haven't seen loverboy around today," Negan observed as they neared. "He off playing grab-ass in the woods with his band of merry men?"

Tilly smirked as she shook her head. "He left early this morning to hunt. I'm sure he'll be sorry he missed you."

That drew a roaring laugh from Negan, and as he worked to regain his composure Tilly took a moment to glace behind them. In the distance she saw the aforementioned hunter approaching, and she only hoped she had a chance to shake Negan before he noticed and had another chance to torture the poor man.

"Well," he sighed as he caught his breath, "it's been a real fucking pleasure, Red, but I have to be off. Responsibility and whatnot, you know. We'll have to do it again sometime."

"Sure," she said, unable to force anymore enthusiasm into her voice. Though she had done a good job of pretending she was enjoying his company, the entire experience had been exhausting. "See you next time."

Just as before, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips in a faux gesture of chivalry. It was then she knew he was aware of Daryl's encroaching presence. The man noticed everything, it seemed. He dropped her hand and flashed her a smile before walking away.

She turned to leave as well, but froze when she heard him call out to her.

"Oh, Matilda?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning back to him.

For just a moment, the false smile he wore disappeared as he leaned closer to her and whispered, "Say hello to Beth for me."


	31. Chapter 31

Tilly was frozen in place. She couldn't even bring herself to form a coherent thought as she watched Negan's towering form climb back into the large truck and drive through the front gates.

_Tell Beth I said hello._

His words echoed in her head as she fought against the panic that rose inside of her.

"You alright?" Daryl's voice burst through the fog in her brain, but she couldn't bring herself to form the words. She just shook her head.

He stepped in front of her then, placing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her lightly to bring her out of her stupor. His blue eyes pierced into hers, but her own eyes were vacant, nearly looking straight through him.

He could feel the rage building inside himself in that moment, having no idea what that bastard had done to induce Tilly's catatonic state. "You need to tell me what he did," he demanded as he shook her a little harder. "Matilda, you need to snap out of it." He was beginning to panic a bit himself, her speechlessness setting off every alarm in his head.

"Beth," she forced, her voice barely a whisper. "He knows."

"Fuck," he hissed, dropping his arms and leaning in closer. "How?"

"I don't know," she sighed, still unable to bring herself to move.

"Come on," he growled, wrapping an arm around her waist and forcing her to walk with him. "We have to tell Rick."

"What are we going to do?" she asked helplessly, the fear inside her bubbling as she thought of Beth being in danger. "He knows we've been lying, that Douglas has lied. He's dangerous, Daryl."

"No one's more dangerous than us," he said firmly. "We'll figure it out."

"Are we going to have to leave?"

He tightened his grip on her momentarily, his attempt at a comforting embrace as they moved. "If we need to, we will. Ain't like we haven't made it out there before."

"We didn't _all_ make it."

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Rick pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced in front of them, processing the startling revelation they had just shared. "Who could have told him?" he asked, his other hand habitually sitting atop the handle of his python.

"Everyone knows she's here," Tilly replied, "but not many people are aware he was looking for her."

"Just us," Rick began, "Douglas…"

"Heath and Michael know," she admitted. "They may have told others, though I would think after what we did they'd keep their mouths shut."

Rick's head snapped toward her, confusion behind his eyes as he studied her. "What do you mean 'after what we did,' Tilly?" He took a step toward her, and Daryl automatically took a step forward, placing himself between them.

"It's nothing you need to be worried about, Rick," he answered for her, holding his hand up to caution the leader to stay back.

"What did you do?" he asked again.

Tilly took a deep breath and gently pushed Daryl aside, stepping toward Rick a bit herself. He seemed angry, but she knew she wasn't in danger of him lashing out. "A few weeks back, when I went on my first run with the crew, we led a herd of walkers to their checkpoint." She could see the heat rising in his face, but continued anyway. She was tired of secrets. "I found out today they took out all but one of the men stationed there. He made it back and told Negan what happened, but there's no way it could be traced back to us. Herds roll through all the time."

"That one just _happened_ to be coming from the same direction you had," Rick spat, beginning to pace again. "So Glenn has been hiding this, too? Who else knows?"

"Just me, Glenn, Heath, Michael, and Daryl," she answered honestly. "I don't think Glenn told Maggie. I know it was stupid, which is why we decided to keep it between us. We did take out a few of his men, though."

"Fuck, Tilly," Rick sighed. She could tell the man was wrestling with his emotions, trying to find a way to express how angry he was without completely blowing up in her face. "You _can't_ do that," he hissed, steeping forward until his face was inches from hers.

Daryl found his hand hovering above his knife as he glared at the sheriff, ready to react if he so much as laid a hand on her. The idea of hurting his friend made him nauseous, but she was his priority. As reckless as she may have been, he wasn't going to turn his back on her.

"I'm sorry," Tilly whispered, her normal confidence shattering as the reality of having betrayed Rick's trust set it.

Rick continued to stare into her eyes, getting a read on her intentions. After a moment, he stepped away and Daryl's had reactively fell back to his side. Though her words were simple, and maybe a little cliché, he could tell they were sincere.

"We need to get the others together and figure out what we do from here," he instructed, effectively keeping the panic he felt out of his voice. "Have everyone meet back here."

The pair nodded and exited the Grimes' home, parting ways as they worked to wrangle the rest of their group. Half-an-hour later they had all piled, as they had so many times before, into Rick's living room.

"It's almost supper time," Abraham remarked as he propped himself against the wall at the back of the room. "What's so important it couldn't wait?"

"Tilly," Rick said simply, nodding to the redhead.

She understood the signal and took her place next to him at the front of the room. She took a deep breathe before she spoke, already dreading the reaction the news would receive. She couldn't help it as her gaze drifted and she locked eyes with the young blonde sitting on the couch.

"Negan knows about Beth."

She expected them to erupt into chaos, but instead the majority of them just stared back, mouths agape.

"How?" the young blonde gasped, terror behind her light eyes.

Tilly shook her head. "I have no idea. He didn't let on that he knew anything all day. He acted perfectly normal, for _him_ anyway. Then as he was leaving he turned and whispered, 'Say hello to Beth for me.' Then he just walked away."

"Why hasn't he done anything if he knows?" Glenn spoke up.

"One thing I've learned in the time I've spent with him," Tilly began, "is that he's all about power. He's holding this over our heads to let us know he has the _power_ to do something about it, he just hasn't. He wants us to sweat."

"He hasn't been fooled by any of us, it seems," Rick added, stepping forward. "We underestimated how smart he really is."

"We're smarter," Maggie suddenly stood, determination on her face as the responsibility of protecting her little sister rose in her full-force. "We have to hit them. Soon."

Rick nodded in agreement as he glanced over the group, most of them with the same look of resolve as Maggie. Only Gabriel, Eugene, and Ashton looked terrified.

"We'll send scouts to find their main base," Rick decided. "We need to know exactly what we're up against. He knows we're capable of surviving, but he has no idea that we've already been to war. There's no way he'd anticipate us going on the offensive so soon."

"I'll go," Tilly volunteered.

"Glenn and I will, too," Maggie spoke up, sharing a look with her husband who nodded in agreement.

"I'm in," Daryl announced, stepping closer to Tilly.

"And me," Tyreese joined in.

"I'm going, too," Rick nodded, looking around at his crew. "We'll leave at sunset. We can't risk going during the day."

"How are we going to get out without anyone asking questions?" Tilly observed, knowing they couldn't possibly come up with a lie that sounded convincing.

"I'm on watch tonight," Sasha responded. "It won't be an issue."

Rick nodded to her in gratitude before dismissing the rest of the group. They only had a couple of hours until it got dark, so they needed to formulate a plan quickly.

"Do either of you know where the Saviors are stationed?" Rick asked, looking between Glenn and Tilly.

They both shook their heads. "We know where a few outposts are," Glenn replied, "but we've never seen their home."

"Heath does," Tilly offered. "I know we have to be careful who we trust right now, but with him going along with us with the attack on the outpost I doubt he'll blow our cover."

"Attack?" Tyreese spoke up in confusion.

"Yeah," Maggie added, "what are you talking about?"

Rick sighed and raised his hand. "Tilly and Glenn can tell you guys all about it later. Right now, we need to round up all of the weapons we can find and figure out how to get keys to a vehicle. I'll go talk to Heath."

Tilly pulled Maggie and Tyreese aside to fill them in on what had happened with the herd while Daryl and Glenn went to gather all of the weapons the group was allowed to keep upon entry to the town. They had been made to turn over their more high-power guns, but they still had several handguns and their melee weapons.

A few minutes later, the two men returned with Glenn's backpack and dumped the contents onto the table. There were enough guns for each of them to carry, several knives, Tyreese's hammer and two boxes of ammo.

"That'll do," Daryl sighed, "long as we keep out of sight."

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Rick waited patiently outside of Heath's home as he waited for the young man to answer his knock.

The door creaked open a few seconds later and a groggy-looking Heath stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

"Uh, hey Rick," he yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's been a long day. I didn't even make it to dinner before I fell asleep." He chucked awkwardly and worked to straighten his dark, braided hair. "What's up?"

"Do you mind if we step inside?" Rick asked quietly, staring into the other man's dark eyes. "There's something _sensitive_ I'd like to discuss with you."

"Yeah, sure," Heath replied, nervousness evident on his face. He walked back inside, holding the door open for the sheriff to follow. Once inside, he led them to the dining room table and gestured for Rick to take a seat. "No one else is home," he explained without needing to hear the unspoken question. "We're alone."

Rick nodded in satisfaction, then got down to business. He didn't have much time to waste. "I know about the attack on the Saviors' outpost," he blurted, causing Heath's eyes to widen.

The younger man struggled to figure out how he should respond. "I, uh," he stammered, "does Douglas know?"

"He doesn't," Rick responded, "and he won't find out as long as you're willing to help us."

"With what?"

"First," he began, "I assume I can trust you? That you'll keep this between us?"

"Of course," Heath nodded. "I tend to avoid spreading other people's business anyway."

"Good," Rick nodded again. "I'm sure Tilly and Glenn have made it pretty evident that we're not too fond of the Saviors and their _relationship_ with Alexandria."

"Can't say I'm too happy with it myself, man," he smirked nervously. "Are you guys planning something?"

Rick avoided his question for the moment. "And you're aware of the situation with Beth?"

Heath simply nodded.

"Negan knows she's here."

Heath leaned back in his chair immediately, raising his hands in front of him. "Shit," he exclaimed, "I mean, do you think I had something to do with it?"

The older man shook his head. "Tilly and Glenn seems to believe you're trustworthy, so no, I don't think you're the one who told him." Heath immediately looked relieved and his posture relaxed a bit as Rick continued. "Regardless of who told him, we know now that Beth is in danger. It means we need to take action now to ensure he doesn't have a chance at getting his hands on her."

"Where do I come in?" Heath questioned. "I'm not much of a fighter."

"I know," Rick smirked, "but you know the lay of the land. We need someone to tell us where his group is located. Do you think you could find it on a map?"

Heath considered his options for a minute before shaking his head. "I'll take you there myself."

Rick smiled as he stood and held his hand out to the dark-skinned man. Heath took it in his own as he got to his feet.

"We leave in half an hour," Rick instructed. "Can you get us the keys to a van?"

Heath nodded. "I keep a set here in the house, but how do you plan on getting out without anyone asking questions?"

"Don't you worry about that," he assured him. "It's taken care of."

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"We'll need to take side roads if we want to avoid crossing any of their outposts," Heath explained from the passenger seat, Rick behind the wheel. "I don't know whether they're manned at night, so it's best we're careful."

"How far away is this place?" Daryl asked from the back where he was seated on the empty floor of the van with the rest of the crew.

"It will probably take us about an hour to get there," he responded confidently, "barring unforeseen complications, of course."

"Why doesn't someone always have to jinx us like that?" Glenn huffed, drawing a laugh from Tilly who patted him on the knee firmly.

"Relax, dude," she chuckled. "All we have to worry about are flesh-eating geeks and men who'd think nothing of shooting each and every one of us. Should be a piece of cake, just like always." She threw him a wink and he held up his middle finger in response.

"Let's keep the chatter to a minimum, guys," Rick scolded from the front seat.

"Yes, dad," Tilly and Glenn groaned in unison, drawing laughter from the rest of the van's occupants. It was a welcome distraction from the seriousness of the task at hand, but they all knew better than to let their guard down.

"Take this road on the right," Heath instructed as he pointed in that direction. "This should get us most of the way there."

Their headlights were the only thing illuminating the dark, moonless night. As luck would have it, a storm appeared to be on the horizon and Rick hoped the rain and thunder would help mask any noise they made as they approached. The road they took was paved, but it was so narrow no one had bothered to paint a line down the middle.

"Have you been this way before?" Tyreese asked to Heath, nervously twirling his trust hammer in his hands. "Not gonna lie, it's kinda giving me the creeps."

"Never at night," Heath admitted, "but we've gone on runs this way a few times. There's a town just a couple of miles down this way, we'll go right through it."

"And you're sure they don't have any scouts around here?" Daryl pried, unable to shake the feeling in his gut that something was off about the trip. To be honest, he hadn't wanted to be a part of it but once Tilly volunteered he knew he wasn't going to let her go without him.

Heath shook his head. "I've never seen any."

"Maybe they just didn't want to be seen," the hunter mumbled to himself.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the trees opened up to a small downtown area. They were greeted by a large, white sign reading _Welcome to Salem_, the paint chipped badly after being left unattended for so long. The streets were deserted, which should have been welcoming, but it set the survivors on edge.

"Why aren't there any walkers?" Maggie whispered, leaning forward between the seats to peek out of the windshield.

"I'm sure they're around," Glenn assured her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's just dark. We can't see them."

A moment later, the van jolted as a loud pop rang out, followed by the hiss of air.

"Motherfucker," Rick spat, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. "Does this thing have a spare?"

"Yeah," Heath replied, nodding furiously as he worked to get his heartbeat under control. "It's in the back."

"Well, let's throw it on and get out of here," Daryl fussed. "I ain't hanging around this place any longer than I have to."

The group piled out of the van as Daryl worked to free the spare and jack from the rear of the vehicle. They spread out instinctively, guns raised as they cased the area for any movement.

"Uh, Rick," Tyreese's voice was hushed and a bit shaky as the leader made his way to where he stood several feet behind the van. He pointed toward the ground, and as soon as Rick saw the object of his attention he erupted in a string of quiet curses.

In front of the men lay a large board, nails placed strategically throughout it. It was immediately clear that it was placed there intentionally.

"Come on," Rick whispered, grabbing the larger man by the arm and practically dragging him back to the group, his eyes sweeping the area as they jogged.

"What's wrong?" Maggie lowered her eyebrows as she took in Rick's worried expression. "Did you see something? Walkers?"

Rick shook his head and unholstered his gun. "Someone's here. They blew our tire on purpose." He looked to Daryl, who hadn't needed to turn his attention away from changing the tire to hear the conversation. "We need to hurry."

"Bandits?" Glenn theorized quietly.

"Does it matter?" Tilly responded. "Whoever it is, they're bad news. The rest of us will keep watch while Daryl fixes the tire. Then we need to get the fuck out of Dodge."

Before they could move to their positions, they heard Heath cry out from the front of the van. They all took off in his direction, Daryl even dropping the tire iron in favor of his crossbow as he abandoned the task at hand.

Heath sat on the ground, a pained expression on his face as he grabbed at his ankle. An arrow stuck out of it at an odd angle and Maggie dropped to the ground to examine it as the others quickly turned their attention to the surrounding area, the darkness ruining any attempt they made to see into the distance.

Rage boiled within Rick, his patience for the standoff short. "Come out!" he yelled into the emptiness. "You want our stuff? Come out here and take it like men!"

"Oh-ho-ho," a deep voice boomed from a nearby alleyway, "we don't want your shit, my friend."

A wave of nausea washed over Tilly as the voice registered in her brain. "We fucked up," she whispered, Glenn the only one close enough to hear.

Just as she suspected, the familiar leader of the Saviors stepped out of the shadows and into the street. The first raindrops began to fall as he made his way into the beam of the headlights.

"I was just taking Lucille here for a stroll," he grinned, shifting the weight of the familiar instrument he held in his hand, "and imagine my fucking surprise when you assholes come sneaking up to our camp."

"We're just out on a run," Tyreese offered weakly, his grip on the hammer tightening.

Negan shook his head as he stepped closer. "I can tolerate a lot of things," he began, "but I fucking hate liars."

Rick rushed to the front of the group, his python held at the ready as he considered the situation. In his peripheral vision he could see Daryl had moved beside him, his crossbow trained at Negan's head. "Why don't you just leave us be, we'll change our tire and be on our way," Rick spat. "Or, we could just put an arrow in your head right now."

Negan released an inappropriately loud laugh then as he looked over the determined group of survivors. "I like you, Rick," he chuckled. "You're Mister-fucking-sunshine one minute and the next you're threatening to blow my brains out. I can appreciate a guy who keeps me on my toes."

Rick just glared at the man, aware that he hadn't yet finished his soliloquy.

"Thing is, Sheriff, I'm not so much of a dumbass that I'd come alone," he explained before letting out a loud whistle that echoed through the small town.

The group of survivors were frozen for a moment as they watched men pouring out of the surrounding buildings. They were stunned by both the fact that they hadn't even noticed they were there and the sheer number of them. There had to be at least thirty. They were remarkably outnumbered.

"Now," Negan continued, "you can go ahead and shoot me, but then my buddies are just going to have to mow down all of your crew. That wouldn't be any fun, would it? Your other option would be to have the redneck point that thing somewhere else while we have a nice little chat."

Daryl's face tensed as he only gripped his crossbow tighter, but then he felt Rick's hand on his. He understood the gesture and begrudgingly lowered the weapon, leaving his finger near the trigger just in case.

"Good dog," Negan teased. "Now, I think I'm safe in assuming this is about Beth, right?" He turned toward Tilly and shook his head. "I thought we were friends, Xena, and here you go telling the sheriff all my fucking secrets. You going to tell loverboy over there about that time we screwed around behind the commissary?"

"You know that didn't happen, asshole," she spat.

"No," he chuckled, "but the offer stands if you make it out of this alive."

Daryl's free hand clenched into a fist and before he knew it his feet were carrying him forward. Thankfully, Tyreese was able to grab his arm and the large man effectively held him in place, Daryl's whole body shaking with rage against him.

"He's just trying to rattle you, man," Ty whispered to him. "He's looking for a reason to kill us. Don't give it to him."

Negan looked pleased at the hunter's reaction and smirked to himself as he began to pace in front of the group, swinging his bat around as he gestured. "Here's the thing," he began, "I fucking knew you'd pull this shit. You thought I wouldn't expect you to retaliate so soon, that I'd expect you to be fucking terrified."

He was right, but Rick did his best to maintain his determined expression even though he was watching their plan disintegrate in from of his eyes. He was at a loss for how they'd get out of that situation without any further damage.

"I know your type, though," Negan continued as he studied each of them. "You guys have been out on the road this whole time. Hell, you've probably killed more people than I have. You're not fucking scared of anything, and you're stupid enough to risk all of your lives for just one of your people."

"You call it stupid," Glenn spat, "we call it family."

"There's that word again," he chuckled. "_Family._ Family gets you killed."

"Are you going to lecture us about how stupid we are all day or is there a point?" Maggie called out, her gun gripped tightly in both hands.

"Hot damn, Officer," he smiled, his eyes hungrily trailing over Maggie's frame. "This one yours?" He didn't wait for Rick to answer. "Nah, too young. You probably got yours killed a long time ago."

Rick's stomach clenched at the words, the evil bastard's insight was impeccable and it cut to his core to have Lori's death thrown back in his face. "You gonna kill us now?" he hissed, trying to keep the anguish out of his face.

"That's a great fucking idea, Sheriff," he replied with a smile, "but I like having you fuckers around. You're useful. I fucking _love_ useful people. I don't _want_ to kill you. I want to work with you." He paused for a moment. "But I am going to teach you a lesson in what happens when you try to pull one over on me. You guys lead a bunch of dead fucks to my men and got them killed. You think that's going to go unpunished?"

Tilly shuddered at the realization that he'd figured out the herd was an attack, not an unfortunate accident and guilt flooded her as she realized the situation they were in was her fault.

"On your knees," he ordered. "All of you. Make a nice fucking line right there and lay your weapons down."

No one moved.

"Alright, now you're pissing me off," he said, the smile leaving his face. "Let's try this again. Get on your fucking knees, you poor, outnumbered motherfuckers, or you _all _die."

"Do it," Rick said firmly, the others unsure they had heard him correctly. "We don't have a choice."

The others did as they were told with hesitation, lining up on their knees in the middle of the street. Negan's smile returned as he looked them over and brought his bat in front of his face, staring at it lovingly.

"It's been a while since Lucille has had her a good time," he smirked, pacing in front of the line.

Tilly sat between Rick and Maggie and she leaned forward to steal a glance at Daryl at the end of the line. Tyreese was still beside him and she could hear the man still quietly trying to talk the hunter out of doing anything stupid.

"Now," he yelled unnecessarily loud, "which one of you is going to be the example, hmm?" They all remained silent. "No volunteers, huh? I thought you guys were all about having each other's backs. Mother fucking _family, _right? I guess that all goes out the window when one of you is about to get your brains bashed in."

Rick could feel the eyes of the others on him, but even he couldn't come up with a way to get them out of that mess. He was going to have to watch one of his own die, if not die himself, and he was helpless to stop it. A wave of nausea overtook him at the realization and he bowed his head, desperately willing an idea to pop into his mind.

"Don't worry, Sheriff," Negan said mockingly, "it'll all be over soon. I just need to pick the lucky bastard who's getting good and intimate with Lucille here."

The large man made his way down to one end of the line, stopping in front of Heath who was still bleeding from the ankle, the arrow yet to be removed. "Not you," he said casually, "I'm a lot of things, but I'd never want to be called a racist. No fucking way. You're off limits."

Next, he moved to Glenn and sighed. "Same. Race card."

Maggie sat next to her husband, her face hard as stone as Negan stepped in front of her and crouched down. She looked at the ground, refusing to look at his face. "My, my," Negan growled, "There's a lot of things I'd like to do to you, and killing you is at the absolute fucking bottom of that list." He paused as he stood. "It's still on it, though."

Tilly gritted her teeth as he approached her, knowing she had a good chance of having barbed wire stuck into her head momentarily. Maggie reached out wordlessly and grabbed the other woman's hand, the same thought most likely going through her mind.

"Oh, Xena," he sighed, "I'm so disappointed in you. You're fucking tough as shit, I'll give you that, but clearly you don't have the brains to match."

Tilly matched Maggie's expression, but stared directly into Negan's eyes, unable to back down from the man who may become her murderer.

"You see," he continued, "I've known Beth was in Alexandria from the moment I saw you fighting off those dead fucks. You really think you two got out of that house without us seeing you? You think you outsmarted us and escaped into the fucking night?" He shook his head and kneeled down in front of her, leaning his face close to hers. "That hair of yours sticks out like a sore thumb, you know. Makes you easy to recognize."

"I'll have to remember to color it when we get back," Tilly hissed, still not shrinking away from the dark-haired man.

"If," he spat, standing up. "I'd hate to kill you, _Matilda_, you've got some fucking balls, but we do have a fucking score to settle so don't get too comfortable."

"And you," he moved in front of Rick, "you're goddamned invincible as far as these people are concerned. They probably fucking worship you. I'm not going to turn you into a martyr." Rick tensed visibly, which only made Negan laugh. "See, I'm going to break you down in front of them," he promised. "I'm going to slide my dick down your throat and make you thank me for it."

"But you," Negan pointed to Tyreese, "you're a definite fucking possibility. Race card or not, I've already explained how I feel about liars."

He spared no more time on Tyreese and made his way to the last person in the line. Tilly's stomach dropped as she saw him approach Daryl with a sick smile plastered on his face. She fought the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes as she saw Negan glance back at her as he stood in front of the hunter.

"Well, this is just a fucking predicament," he chuckled as he pointed Lucille toward Daryl's face. Daryl took the same approach Tilly had, staring the man down in an attempt to show he wasn't afraid, even though he very much was. "I can't figure out if it'd be more fun to kill Xena, teach her an important lesson about trying to pull one over on me, or," he paused, "if I should just bash your head to fucking shreds in front of her."

Negan sighed and threw his arms up in the air. "I simply cannot fucking decide."

A moment later, his eyes lit up and he grinned as he looked over the cowering group in front of him. "I have an idea." He held Lucille in front of him, pointing to each of them as he chanted, "Eeny, meeny, miney, mo. Catch a tiger by his toe. If he hollers let him go." Tilly stared down the line, locking eyes with Daryl as he ticked by them. She could see the tears in his eyes as well at the realization that they were all helpless to their fate, and that they were either about to die or watch one of their friends mutilated in front of them.

"My mother told me to pick the very best one and you…" Rick. "Are…" Tyreese. "It." Daryl.

"Bring him up."

**I won't leave you hanging for long, guys. I promise. :) -B**


	32. Chapter 32

**Sorry to leave you guys hanging like that! Thanks so much for all of the wonderful reviews, follows, and favorites. They make me want to crank these chapters out quicker for you guys. :) I appreciate all of you taking the time to read my story, and I always appreciate your input. I'd love ideas of where you all would like to see things go, things I should focus on more, how long I should keep this going, etc. **

**xo- B**

"It doesn't have to be like this!" Rick yelled desperately as a pair of Saviors yanked Daryl to his feet.

The hunter fought against them with every ounce of strength he had, but it was no use.

"Oh, it abso-fucking-lutely does, Sheriff," Negan replied as his men threw Daryl to his knees in front of the larger man, Lucille held tightly in his grasp. As he raised the bat he hesitated for a moment and turned to look at Tilly, who was barely keeping it together at all. Hot tears soaked her cheeks and her reddened eyes were visible even through the darkness. He shot a smile her way before roughly kicking Daryl in the side.

"Any last words, loverboy?" he teased, the bat still held over his head as Daryl reeled from the blow.

Daryl could feel his entire sorry existence replaying in his brain. Not one bit of it brought him any joy until he thought of the time since Tilly had joined the group. She'd had a life nearly as traumatic as his, but still she remained strong and hopeful, if not a little reckless. She made him feel things he'd never even considered, and he resolved that in his final moments he would tell her the things he'd never have the confidence to say if he wasn't so near-death.

"It's ok," Daryl said quietly as he stared at Tilly, studying her face one last time. The pain in her eyes stung him to the core, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. She was going to be the last thing he ever saw in that cruel, ugly world. "Be smart. Be careful." He paused a moment and took a deep breath. "I love you, Matilda."

"Very touching," Negan scoffed, bringing his bat even higher for the first blow.

Before she could stop herself, Tilly had launched herself toward Daryl, tackling him out of the way just as the bat connected with the pavement where he had previously been sitting, a loud crack erupting at the impact. Several of the Saviors drew their guns on her but Negan held up a hand, signaling them to hold their fire.

He stood silent for a moment as he studied the pair on the ground. The shock on their face was evident, neither of them completely understanding what just happened.

"Take him back to the line," Negan ordered, pointing toward Daryl.

The hunter looked stunned, to say the least, and he only snapped back to reality as he was being drug away from Tilly. She sat on the pavement, her red hair clinging to the wetness of her face as she immediately realized what she had done. She knew trying to do anything would get her, at the very least, shot in the head, but Daryl's words had struck something within her and she acted almost involuntarily as a result. She could vaguely hear Daryl calling her name as she focused on Negan, who stood towering over her.

"You're the stupidest fucking person I've ever met, Xena," he chuckled maniacally. "Why in the world would you do something like that? Bout got a fucking bullet in your head."

Tilly stayed silent as she stared back at him, her face stone cold.

"Oh! I get it," Negan began laughing harder as it dawned on him, "Loverboy hadn't grown a pair big enough to tell you he loved you until I was about to bash his fucking head into the sidewalk."

Daryl winced at the words. He was right, and the shame rippling through his body was palpable. He balled his hands into fists, still struggling wildly against his captors as obscenities flew from his lips.

"I have another idea," Negan began pacing in front of her. "How about you drop that redneck pussy and come back with me?"

"No chance, shit head," Tilly spat, gaining the courage to stand. Her knees stung, and it briefly occurred to her that she scraped them badly when she dove for Daryl.

"Let me rephrase," Negan hissed, the laughter gone from his voice. "You're coming with me, or we'll get Loverboy back up here and let Lucille have another swing. Make your fucking choice, Xena."

"Tilly, don't," Daryl growled, pulling against the two Saviors who had him pinned to his knees beside Tyreese.

The redhead's mouth hung open as the realization of what was about to happen set in. She didn't have a choice. She had gotten them into that mess to begin with and she knew wasn't going to let Daryl pay the price. She turned toward Daryl, struggling to maintain a look of calm although she was panicking internally. The horror on his face tore her to pieces.

"I have to, Daryl," she said quietly. "Letting him kill you isn't an option."

"And the fuck you think he's going to do to you?" Daryl spat. The rest of the group watched helplessly, silently as tears began streaming down the hunter's face. It was a shock for them to see the normally stoic man in such a state. He was desperate, and Rick thought he could see his friend's heart breaking right before his eyes.

"I'll be fine," she lied. "You have to live. The others need you more than they need me."

"That ain't fucking true, Matilda!" Daryl yelled, anger rumbling in his voice. "I'm supposed to just go back to that place like nothin' happened while that sick bastard uses you for whatever fucked up shit he decides?"

Negan smiled behind Tilly as he watched the exchange, Lucille leaned casually against his shoulder. He was more than a little entertained by the mess he'd made and decided quickly that the situation at hand would be even more damaging to the group than simply killing one of them. Daryl was one of their strongest members, he'd deducted that much, and having him alive, but volatile, worked in his favor.

"I'm taking the liar, too," Negan injected, pointing to Tyreese as an idea occurred to him. "But I tell ya what," he moved in front of Rick, the sheriff meeting his gaze, "you bring me Beth and I'll pass these two right the fuck back. Hell, I'm taking the short end of this fucking deal while you get the two-for-fucking-one special!"

Maggie's muffled cries could be heard to Rick's left as he remained silent, his mind racing at Negan's proposal.

"The fuck's her problem?" Negan hissed, nodding toward Maggie.

"Beth's my sister, you asshole," the brunette answered through her sobs.

"Well damn," the large man chuckled, "guess that puts you in a terrible fucking position, doesn't it? You have two weeks to bring her to me or I'll be showing up to collect." He glanced over at Daryl, but the hunter's eyes were locked on Tilly, pleading silently for her to just let Negan take him instead. "Trust me when I say there will be an added fee if you make me come get her myself."

He nodded to two men behind him who promptly grabbed Tilly's arms. Though she knew she had no choice, she instinctually struggled against them. Behind her, Tyreese fought with the four Saviors it took to drag him in their direction.

She could hear Daryl yelling things she couldn't understand as they made their way into the darkness, and she knew that the others would have to talk him out of following right behind them. She just hoped they'd succeed.

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"You're not going! Are you crazy?" Maggie screamed in her sister's face, the blonde immediately having insisted she would return to the Saviors in exchange for Tilly and Tyreese.

"I have to, Maggie," she replied, much calmer than her sister. "We can't sacrifice two people for me. Tilly saved my life, she gave me the chance to see you again. I owe her. And Tyreese is strong. He has more to offer than I do."

The room erupted into chaos in that moment, all of them loudly debating how they would proceed with the situation. Having two of their own left at the mercy of the Saviors had them all terrified.

"You ain't going." Everyone in the room froze at the sound of Daryl's voice. He hadn't said a word since they'd all but drug him back into the van to return to Alexandria.

"But, Tilly-" Beth was interrupted when Daryl stepped closer to her and held up his hand.

"I'll get her back," he said resolutely, "but you ain't goin' back there. She'd have my ass if I let you." _She._ He couldn't bring himself to say her name. He'd thought he was dying and finally worked up the nerve to say the words that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks, only to have her ripped away from him. _Another girl I lost. _

"We'll find a way," Rick stepped in, "but Daryl's right. We have no way of knowing he'd even hand them over once he had Beth."

"He would," Beth responded calmly. "He isn't like the Governor. He's evil, without a doubt, but he follows through on his deals. That's why we have to go now. If he comes here," she paused, considering her words, "there will be consequences."

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"You comfy in there, Xena?" Negan's form was silhouetted by the light that filtered through the narrow door into the dark room.

She'd spent the night in the dark room, but was obviously unable to sleep. Her stomach clenched with hunger as she stood from the bed and stared back at him.

"You've got it pretty good here, Red," he continued, her lack of response not bothering him in the least. "Got your own fucking bed, a pot to piss in. You've even got hot fucking water."

"Great," she groaned in response. "It's just a fucking four-star hotel."

"Afraid we can't provide room service, though," he laughed. "We'll give you enough food so you don't kick the bucket or anything, but truth is you're a tough fucking bitch, Xena. I can't have you bashing someone's brains in or anything. That's my job, so we're gonna have to starve you out just a little, I hope you don't mind."

"Better than breaking my legs so I don't run away, I guess," she scoffed.

"You're just full of good ideas," he grinned, making her immediately regret opening her mouth, "but we'll stick with mine for now. Plus, it's bound to tug at that redneck's heartstrings when I show up with his girl all shriveled up and miserable. Should get them to hand blondie right the fuck over."

"They won't give you Beth," she spat. "She's just a kid. They aren't going to hand her over for you to put a bullet in her skull."

At that, Negan erupted with laughter, his usual response, as he shook his head. "Oh no, sweetheart. Beth broke down my fucking fences and got a hearty fucking amount of them chomped to death. She won't be lucky enough for it to be that quick."

"You'd torture a child?" Tilly's stomach was in knots at his confession.

"She's not a child," he hissed, "not in this world. She's what? 19? She's a grown fucking woman, a motherfucking murderer."

"You kidnapped her, you dumb fuck." Tilly stood up, getting close enough to Negan that she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

Before she could say anything else, Negan grabbed her by the shoulders and crashed his lips into hers. She fought the bile that rose in her throat as she pushed her hands against his broad chest. He only lingered a moment before pulling away, leaving her to furiously wipe at her mouth, a sad attempt to push the memory away.

The smile that crossed his lips was more sinister than she'd seen from him as he backed toward the door. "Don't worry, Xena," he said smoothly, "we don't rape or any of that shit around here. I just needed to get that out of my system." With that, he winked at her and left the room, locking the door behind him as Tilly stood stunned, staring at where he had stood moments before.

The only light in the room filtered through a dirty window on the back wall, bars welded to the outside preventing an escape. She moved to the door at the front of the small room, trying to doorknob just in case though to no avail.

Tilly folded her arms over her chest as she explored her cell. It looked to be a studio apartment, and she wondered if the building where she was being held had once held apartments full of families, rather than prisoners and thugs. Negan's men had blindfolded her and Tyreese as they neared the compound, only taking it off once they were inside the room.

_Tyreese._

She'd been so caught up in her own encounter with Negan that she hadn't even thought of their other hostage. She began screaming his name, hoping that if he was being held nearby she could at least get confirmation that he was still alive.

"Tyreese!" she bellowed without regard for anyone else who might have heard. "Ty! Tyreese! Can you hear me?"

"Tilly?" she heard his familiar voice call back to her, and relief washed through her body. His wellbeing was a small comfort. "That you? You alright?"

"Yeah," she yelled back, "I'm fine, just locked in some kind of apartment. What about you?"

"Same," he replied. "Windows are all barred up."

"We wouldn't make it out even if we could jump," she called back. "You see anything on the way in?"

"Nah," he answered, "but I counted the stairs. Four flights, I think. We need to rem-"

His revelation was cut short when she heard a muffled yell and a crash down the hall. She heard a door slam, and her heart picked up speed as the footsteps of whoever had closed it pounded in her direction. She moved into the farthest corner of the room, positioning herself between the end of the bed and an empty bookshelf as she heard a key turn and her door swung open.

She recognized the man who entered as one of the ones who had drug her back to the Savior's vehicle in the town. He wasn't much taller than her, maybe even younger, but he was well-muscled and she knew she couldn't overpower him, even if he wasn't holding a gun in his hand. The corner of his thin lips twisted into a smirk, and he clicked his tongue and shook his head as he approached.

"Can't have ya'll plottin' your escape," he drawled, his obviously southern accent strong. "Now, I had to knock out that black fella. You gonna shut up or do I need to clock you upside the head, too?"

"Your clocking services aren't needed here, dude," she replied. "How about you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"How about you keep a handle on that mouth, sweet cheeks?" he hissed, moving closer to her.

"Sweet cheeks?" she scoffed. "Bet you catch a lot of tail with that one, huh? Unfortunately for you, your vocabulary seems to be about as developed as that pitiful mustache." She couldn't suppress the insults that flew from her mouth and let her rage bubble over at the man. "You even hit puberty yet, you little punk? Your balls even drop-"

She caught the flash of metal from the corner of her eye before the man's gun connected with the side of her skull and everything was black.

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"It's been over a week-and-a-half," Sasha sighed, her nerves on edge since the kidnapping of her big brother, "when are we going to do something?"

"Douglas has us on lock-down," Rick replied. "He took our guns. We don't have any way to go after them."

The decision had been made the day after the incident to make the leader of Alexandria aware of what had happened. Unsurprisingly, he was furious and threatened to kick the group out of the safe zone completely unless they surrendered their weapons and remained inside the walls until further notice.

"We're getting our weapons back tonight," Carol explained, the older woman almost too calm about the situation despite the fact that she was also distraught. "Douglas is hosting that stupid party at his house. While we're there the armory will be unguarded."

"I'll slip out in the middle of everything," Glenn continued, "and take what I can. I'll be back before anyone even notices I'm gone."

Rick nodded, confident in the plan. "Once we have our guns we can slip out," he added. "We can't get out the front, but it won't be hard to get a few of us over the wall behind our houses. We go tomorrow night."

"They should really guard this place better," Sasha huffed before turning and leaving the Grimes' home.

The others had grown increasingly concerned about Sasha since her brother was taken. While Daryl had become more focused, obsessed even, on working with the group to come up with a plan she had secluded herself almost entirely, choosing to spend her days in the watch tower. She had become irritable and unapproachable, tending to snap at anyone who dared speak to her. The only time any of them even saw her was when Rick forced her to show up to their meetings.

After a few more minutes of discussion, Rick dismissed all of them to go get ready for the gathering. It seemed wrong to attend such an event when two of their own's lives were in the balance, but it needed to be done in order for their plan to take shape. So they put on their nicest clothes, donned their friendliest smiles, and provided the distraction Glenn needed to steal the guns right from under the oblivious residents' noses.

It worked like a charm.

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"Twelve days," Tilly whispered as she pulled herself up out of bed and made her way to the small bathroom.

The two-week deadline was quickly approaching, and while she was a bit surprised the others hadn't tried to come after them it was also a relief. Even if she and Tyreese died, the others were still fine. They hadn't risked their own lives for her.

She stripped off her clothing and turned the knob on the grimy shower before stepping in. The days were long and boring, and without anything else to look forward to her morning shower had become the highlight of her day.

She braced herself against the wall with one arm as she let the water run over her head. Tilly was already out of breath, the small amount of effort exhausting after so long without ample nourishment. Negan's plan to weaken her was working and she wondered if Tyreese was suffering in the same way, the large man obviously more of a physical threat than her.

_Or maybe they've done worse to him,_ she thought sadly. She hadn't seen or heard from her friend since they had both been knocked unconscious for attempting to communicate. To be honest, she didn't even know if he was still alive.

She pushed the thought out of her head, as she had so many times before, and washed herself as quickly as possible before wrapping her body in a thin, white towel. The Saviors didn't have much to offer her as far as clothing went, so the things they provided to her were often men's items that were much too big.

She pulled on the dark jeans that she had set on the sink, fastening her belt to hold them in place, before throwing on the oversized white t-shirt. Though the items appeared clean, she wrinkled her nose as the stale scent they held. After lacing up her boots, she made her way back into the main room and plopped back down on the bed, breathing heavily, her grand plans for the day already completed.

"Knock, knock!" The man who had knocked her out, who she'd come to know as Gene, didn't actually knock before throwing the door to her room open, another one of Negan's goons following behind him.

"I'm trying to sleep over here," she groaned, rolling to face the wall. "I'm afraid you'll have to bother me later."

"Sorry, lady," the other man chuckled, his accent much more nondescript than Gene's southern one. "Boss has big plans today. We're taking you home."

Her head jerked toward them as she rolled his words around in her brain. "It hasn't been two weeks yet," she replied, stunned.

"Close enough," Gene spat. "We ain't got time to fuck around anymore."

"So you're here to take me to the truck, I assume?"

The men exchanged a glance that made her stomach drop.

"Thing is, sweetheart," Gene drawled, "we can't just take you back there all shiny and clean. I mean, you are looking a little scrawny these days but that ain't quite unnerving enough."

Tilly nodded knowingly, pushing her fear aside as she slowly stood up, holding her hands out to her sides. She refused to let them think she was afraid of them. "Well, get to it, then. What are we talking here? Gonna beat the shit out of me? Cut something off?"

"Just gonna rough ya up a little bit," Gene shrugged, like it was no big deal. "Hell of a lot better than what that black dude is getting, I can tell ya that."

She was unable to hide her emotions at that, her hand flying to her mouth for a moment. "What are you doing to him?"

"I'm afraid that's none of your business," the other man scoffed, only hesitating a moment before swinging his fist into her jaw.

She fell back onto the bed roughly, unable to keep her footing. It all became a blur after that. Gene pulled her from the bed and slung her to the floor, and the next few minutes were a flurry of kicks, punches, and blood.

When they were finished, Tilly was still awake but wished she wasn't. She was disoriented, unable to stand on her own. Before she could begin to process what had happened she was pulled to her feet, one of the men throwing a bag over her head and securing it around her neck. A moment later, she was being lifted and came to rest over the shoulder of one of the men.

"Where," she sputtered, unable to form a coherent thought as her body bounced roughly against his, "are… Are we leaving now?"

"Sure are, sweetheart," she heard Gene's voice beneath her as they moved, confirming he was the one who carried her. "Oh," he paused for a moment once they were outside, setting her down on her feet but holding her shoulders to keep her steady, "one more thing."

She didn't know the man had his knife out until she felt it pierce deeply into her rib cage, her last bit of consciousness fading as blood began to pour from her side.

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"Hellooooooo, Alexandria!" Negan boomed, spreading his arms wide as his posse set up outside the safe zone's gates. "Get the fuck out here! You think my time isn't fucking precious?"

Rick was the first one to make it to the gates, and he called behind him to anyone who was within earshot to help him get them open, his heart racing wildly at the surprise visit.

"Mornin', Sheriff!" Negan hollered cheerfully when the gate rolled aside and Rick came into view. "I believe we have some business to take care of."

"Our time isn't up yet," Rick growled, pulling the pistol he had previously been concealing into view. They'd gotten their weapons back the previous night, but it appeared they had waited too long to launch a counter attack. They wouldn't be jumping the walls that night, afterall.

"Looks like it fucking is," Negan boomed in response. "Now, I wanna see your whole crew of assholes in front of me in the next five minutes or we're going to have a fucking problem. Beth, too. Everyone."

Rick choked back the curses that threatened to escape his mouth and called to Glenn to gather their group. It only took a few minutes for them all to assemble at the mouth of the settlement, Maggie pushing her sister behind her and clinging tightly to her hand as they approached.

"This won't be necessary," Douglas called, slipping in front of Rick. "Your problem is with these people, not our town. We have an agreement. We give you supplies and you leave us alone. I don't appreciate you showing up at our gates with an armed crew."

"I'll make it quick, old man," Negan barked. "Now excuse me while I settle my business with the officer." He turned his attention to the blonde then, offering her a small wave as he grinned in her direction. "Long time no see, Bethy."

"Piss off," Maggie hissed back at him, pushing her sister farther back.

"I'm just here to make the trade and I'll be on my merry-fucking-way," Negan chuckled. "Look, as a sign of trust I'll even get things started." He whistled loudly, and two of his men leapt into action, dragging a struggling Tyreese out of the vehicle, his hands bound and a bag tied tightly over his head as he squirmed.

"Tyreese!" Sasha cried, running toward the men and grabbing her brother by the arm, completely disregarding the danger that surrounded her. He grunted and jerked under the bag as his sister lead him back to the gates.

"Now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to collect what's mine before you get Xena back," he shrugged casually.

Daryl stood beside Rick then, his brain going a mile-a-minute as he fought with the idea of Tilly being so near to him but still out of reach. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when a scream erupted behind him.

They all turned just in time to see that Tyreese's restraints had been removed and the bag pulled from his head by Sasha and Ashton. However, what they saw in front of them wasn't the happy reunion they expected. Instead, Tyreese was hovering over the younger girl as she lay on the ground, his teeth gnashing furiously as they neared her neck. She pushed against him with all her might, but she was outmatched.

Tyreese's once bright eyes were a milky white, his skin a dull gray, and before any of them had time to process what was happening his teeth were buried deeply in Ashton's shoulder as she cried out in pain. Sasha didn't hesitate any longer as she pulled out her knife and drove it into the skull of her beloved brother.

"We've gotta get her to the infirmary!" Abraham cried, pushing Tyreese's unmoving corpse from the girl, blood covering both of them as he lifted her body into his arms. Ashton gasped for air as she hemorrhaged, her once-gray shirt quickly turning solid red.

Carol shook her head as she approached, laying a hand on Abraham's shoulder. "Lay her down," she commanded quietly, tears in her eyes. "It's too late. We know what has to be done."

The sergeant paused for a moment before complying and laying the young girl gently on the pavement. The world around them seemed to freeze for a moment, even Negan remaining silent as they helplessly watched the girl bleed out. When she finally stopped struggling for air and grew still, Carol leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before quickly shoving her own knife into the girl's temple, preventing the inevitable.

"Well, fuck," Negan shrugged, "I told you there'd be a price if you made me bring them here. Didn't mean to get the girl killed, though. Real fucking sorry about that." He appeared vaguely apologetic for a moment, but then returned to business. "Just hand Beth over and I'll give you Matilda, who is in bad fucking shape, I might add. She's alive, but you're going to want to hurry and get her fixed up if you want her to stay that way."

"Let us see her!" Daryl demanded as he stepped nearer to the Saviors. "Let us see she's alive." He still had no idea how they were going to proceed, but he needed to know she was alright for the moment.

"You got it, Loverboy." Negan turned and made his way to the truck and hauled Tilly out himself, her body hanging limply in his arms. One of his men appeared at his side and removed the bag over her head so the others could see her face. Her chest rose and fell weakly, letting them know she was alive, but the sight of her was unnerving.

Daryl felt his heart clench as he took in her state. She was out cold, her face bloodied and bruised. She looked frail, like she could break if you touched her too hard. His face was red with rage and it took everything in his body to keep him from shooting Negan where he stood.

"Tilly!" Beth gasped at the sight, stepping around her sister. "She needs help." She grabbed her sister's arm and spun her to face her. "I have to go, Maggie," she resolved. "If I don't, she'll die. This is about me. No one else needs to die."

"Beth, no," Maggie pleaded, tears sparkling in her eyes. The blonde leaned in and placed a kiss on her sister's cheek before she began approaching the caravan on Saviors.

"Smart fucking girl," Negan chuckled, passing Tilly's body to Gene. "Go on, take her over."

The group stood frozen as they watched Beth walk away, but no one moved to stop her. They knew they couldn't make the decision for her, and none of them had found a way around it. If they didn't let her go, chances are none of them would have made it out of there alive.

Daryl pushed his feelings about Beth aside and sprinted in Gene's direction, nearly ripping Tilly from his grasp. Once his hands were free, Gene moved to grab Beth by the arm. No sooner had he touched her, Beth turned and gouged a knife no one had even noticed she was holding into the man's throat, his eyes growing wide as he clutched desperately at the weapon sticking out of his neck.

The next sound any of them heard was a gunshot.

Beth lay next to the bloodied body of Gene, a gaping hole in the back of her head. The Savior who shot her immediately turned his gun on the people of Alexandria as Rick's group unholstered their own and trained them on the group of men in front of them.

"Whoa, whoa, fucking hold on," Negan bellowed, raising his hands as a sign of peace. "You seriously going to get into a gunfight right now? You're really fucking outnumbered, Sheriff. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty fucking pissed I didn't get to kill her myself, but I guess technically this makes us even."

Rick's mouth hung open, tears running down his cheeks as he stared down the larger man. After a moment, he held up his hand, signaling the others to lower their weapons. "We're not losing anyone else," he said weakly, barely loud enough for any of them to hear.

"Good fucking man, Sheriff," Negan chuckled. "Now, let this be a motherfucking lesson in what happens when you fuck me over. Remember what I said back at the town, Rick?" Negan took a few steps toward the leader and spoke more quietly. "_That_ was me sliding my dick down your throat. You're fucking welcome."

With that, he turned and the Saviors drove away, leaving the residents of Alexandria to pick up the pieces.


	33. Chapter 33

**Thanks for all of the reviews lately, guys (both positive and negative). They really drive me to keep writing. In this chapter we'll catch out breathe a bit as the crew struggles with the aftermath of the showdown. I appreciate any feedback you're willing to give. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-B**

The sound of Maggie's wails was heartbreaking, especially coupled with the sight of her cradling her little sister's lifeless body, both of them covered with Beth's blood. Glenn did his best to comfort his wife, his own sobs audible, but Maggie didn't seem notice his presence. Her mind was clouded with grief she couldn't process. The light from Beth's eyes was gone, her golden hair matted with crimson as Maggie stared at her, wordlessly begging her to wake up. Minutes before, she had been holding her sister's hand, and now she was holding her dead body.

Sasha merely stood silent, kneeling beside the stilled body of Tyreese. His blood was mixed with that of Ashton who lay only feet away, her innocent face contorted into an expression not of peaceful release, but of pain.

The others stood stunned, unable to process the scene in front of them. The peaceful life they'd worked so hard to find had been shattered in an instant, and they had lost three of their own in a flash.

"You," Rick cleared his throat as he turned to Daryl, wiping the tears roughly from his wide eyes, "you need to get her to Pete. She's bleeding out."

Where she had once been the only thing on his mind, Daryl had almost forgotten about the woman who lay in his arms in the midst of the chaos. He sniffed as he nodded to Rick and held Tilly's body tighter to his own as he began running back into the safe zone in search of the infirmary.

Only a minute later, the small, white building came into sight and he was relieved to find Pete was waiting inside.

"What happened?" the surgeon's eyes grew wide as he saw the pair. "I hear the gunshot. What's going on? Was she shot?"

"I don't know," Daryl croaked. He swore he could smell liquor on the other man's breath, but he didn't have time to worry about that. "She's bleeding. You need to help her."

Pete nodded and gestured for them to follow him back into the exam room. He quickly cleared off a long metal table and Daryl laid her gently on top. He watched helplessly as Pete cut through the stained white shirt she wore and threw it onto the floor, displaying all of her injuries in their full glory.

"She gonna be ok?" the hunter croaked, his voice catching in his throat as he took in the sight of her beaten body.

"It looks like she was stabbed," Pete explained as he ran his hands over her ribcage. "I don't think they hit anything vital, but she does have some broken ribs so internal bleeding could be an issue. I don't have the means to open her up and check, so we'll just have to keep an eye on her." He ran a hand through his light hair as he moved to grab what he would need to clean and stitch her wound. "We'll need to start an IV, too, get some fluids in her. She needs food, but that will have to wait until she wakes up."

Daryl nodded absently, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. _Internal bleeding._ _Open her up. What if she doesn't wake up?_

"Daryl?" Pete grabbed the other man by the arms and shook him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I asked if everyone else was alright," Pete repeated.

Daryl shook his head slowly. "Beth, Tyreese, Ashton, they're all dead."

"That's it?"

That was absolutely the wrong thing for the surgeon to say, and Daryl had to stop himself from punching the taller man in the face. "That fuck you mean, _that's it?_" he hissed. "That ain't enough? Just glad it weren't none of _your_ people?" He moved closer until he and the doctor were nearly touching, his head only reaching to the bottom of Pete's chin.

"Whoa, man," Pete held up his hands in surrender. "That's not what I meant. Just making sure everyone else is alright."

"Yeah," Daryl spat, "they're _fine, _'cept for Sasha and Maggie who just watched their brother and sister get killed, and Carol who had to put a knife in the head of that little girl. Everything's _fine_."

"Look, Daryl," Pete began, moving away from the hunter and slipping on a pair of rubber gloves, "I'm not the enemy here. A dumbass who says the wrong things, maybe, but I'm on your side. We're going to do everything we can to help Tilly."

Daryl stepped back a bit and took a deep breath, trying to calm his temper. He knew he was just on edge from what had happened at the gates and tried to rationalize that he probably shouldn't take it out on the man who was trying to save his partner's life.

"I need you to go get cleaned up," Pete ordered gently. "Give me some space to get her stable, then you can come back. Why don't you go grab her some clean clothes and some for yourself, too?"

It was only then that Daryl looked down at himself, and his stomach clenched when he saw his clothes were stained with blood. _Her blood_.

"She'll be fine until you get back," Pete assured him. "You have my word."

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"Sasha!" Michonne called, doing her best to keep up with the other woman as she wandered away from the safe zone and into the woods. "Sasha! You can't just run off!"

"Got my gun," Sasha replied coldly, not bothering to turn and look at her friend as she adjusted her sniper on her shoulder. While the others began preparing the bodies to be buried, she had simply turned and walked away into the wilderness.

After a few minutes, Michonne caught up to her and began walking at her side, trying to break through the wall she had immediately thrown up at the death of her brother.

"You think Tyreese would want you wandering out here, getting yourself eaten?" she pleaded. "Sasha, this isn't the way." She grabbed the other woman's arm, but Sasha pulled away roughly and turned to face Michonne.

"We fooled ourselves into thinking that place was _safe_," she yelled, immediately putting Michonne on high-alert in case the sound attracted unwanted attention. "It's not. Nowhere is. All we do is run, and run, and run, and we only ever stop long enough to bury one of our own."

"We'll deal with Negan," Michonne hissed, growing irritated with the situation despite her compassion for her friend's grief. "What we can't deal with is losing another person today because you got stupid and ran off out here."

"What difference does it make?" Sasha asked. "What difference does it make if I die now, or if I get eaten, or if I get shot in the head like Beth? We all die. That's the only way this story ends."

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Carol sat next to the freshly dug graves of their fallen friends, absently twirling a blade of grass between her fingers as she stared at the makeshift tombstones.

"You alright?"

Carol turned and glanced up at the dark-haired woman who appeared behind her, a small bundle of flowers in her arms. "I will be," she replied, giving her a polite smile. "Thanks, Jessie."

The other woman knelt down next to Carol, placing a handful of flowers onto Beth's grave before doing the same to the others.

"They were good people," Jessie offered genuinely. "Beth was always so kind. I'm really going to miss having her around."

Carol nodded silently, still staring over the freshly piled soil.

"Pete says Tilly still hasn't woken up," she continued, the mention of her husband enough to turn Carol's head toward her. "I know what you think about him, Carol. I can see it in your eyes, but you don't need to worry about me. We need Pete here. He's a good surgeon, and I have to do my part to make sure he's happy."

"By letting him beat you?" Carol questioned, her heart breaking even more at Jessie's confession.

Jessie shook her head. "He wasn't like this before. It's what this world has done to him. He can come back from it, I know it."

"None of us get to come back," Carol said quietly, turning her attention back to the graves. "The things we do now, we don't get to blame them on the world, even the things we've done to survive."

"And what kinds of things have you done, Carol?"

The older woman shook her head. "If I told you, you'd wish I hadn't."

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"When do you think she'll wake up?" Daryl asked sheepishly, sitting in a chair next to the bed where Tilly had been moved after Pete cleaned her up.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I'd count on her being out for a while," he explained. "She lost a lot of blood, took a hell of a beating, and I don't think that prick was even feeding her."

Daryl's heartrate picked up as he thought of everything the Saviors may have done to her in the time they were separated. She was the only one who knew the truth, and he'd be left in suspense until she awoke.

"She's weak," the doctor continued, "but she'll come through. There's nothing that indicates she's bleeding internally, which is a goddamned miracle, so her body just needs time to rest and heal. I'll keep her sedated for a couple of days, then we'll wait and see if she wakes up on her own."

"Thanks," Daryl replied softly, turning his eyes back to the redhead's face. Pete nodded in acknowledgement and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Though she slept, her face wasn't peaceful. She would occasionally whimper or groan, like she was having a bad dream, and when that happened Daryl would grab her hand and speak comforting words to her that she most likely couldn't even hear. Once again, he felt helpless and he internally cursed her for allowing Negan to take her instead of just killing him.

"Ain't got a lick of sense, girl," he whispered to her. "Stopped him from killing me and now look at ya. My life ain't worth this."

"It is." He hadn't even noticed Rick had entered the room until the sheriff spoke.

Daryl shook his head in response as Rick sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed, taking Tilly's hand in his own.

"She messed up," Rick explained, "but she did her best to make sure she was the one who paid for it."

"We all messed up," Daryl sighed, leaning back in his chair and chewing absently on his thumbnail.

Rick nodded in agreement. "We did, but she _thought_ it was all on her. She didn't hesitate to take your place. Girl's nothing if not brave."

Daryl scoffed in response. Not that he didn't agree, but he sometimes wished she would let caution take the place of bravery. "Bet she didn't expect to end up layin' here like this when she pushed me out of the way."

"No, she probably expected to die," Rick leaned closer to the hunter as he spoke. "I guarantee you she won't regret it once she wakes up."

"She's gonna be tore up about Beth," Daryl replied, sorrow behind his words.

"Yeah," the sheriff huffed. "We all are. I'm concerned about Maggie. Sasha, she's being a little reckless, but we can handle that. Maggie," he paused as he gathered his thoughts, "she won't talk to anyone, even Glenn. I don't know how she's going to come out of this."

"She'll be fine," Daryl offered, no amount of certainty behind his words. "She's tough."

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Two weeks.

Daryl spent two weeks sitting by Tilly's bedside, only leaving when he had to go hunting. Even then, he spent less time in the woods than usual, wanting to be there when she woke up. It had been nearly a month since she was taken, a month since he'd been able to speak to her, and it was wearing on him.

The others in the group stopped by to keep him company, Rick and Glenn more often than the rest, and though there was never much conversation the gesture was not lost on him. They knew he was having a rough time, that he was lonely, and it helped a bit to know they cared.

He left early that day to hunt, wanting to be back before mid-morning. When he returned after taking his meager kill to the kitchen he found Carol sitting at the younger woman's bedside.

"Everything go alright?" she asked, offering him a kind smile.

He merely shrugged in return, taking the seat on the other side of the bed.

"I know this is hard for you," Carol offered gently. "I know what she means to you, but I can tell it isn't her health you're most concerned about." She knew Daryl better than almost anyone else in the group, and she had a way of almost reading his mind that was both obnoxious and comforting to him. She never judged him, though, and it made him more willing to open up to her than the others.

Daryl ran a hand through his hair as he carefully chose his words. "When I thought I was going to die," he began, "I told her…" His voice trailed off as he was suddenly unable to utter the words.

"That you loved her," Carol completed for him with an understanding nod. "Rick told me everything that happened. Do you regret it?"

The hunter shook his head as he gnawed at his thumbnail. "That ain't it."

Carol studied him for a moment as she considered the situation. She knew he wasn't one to say things he didn't mean. "You're afraid she doesn't feel the same," she guessed, too accurately for his liking. "That she won't feel the same about you after everything that happened."

"I couldn't save her," he said quietly, looking up to face her, "just like I could save Beth… or Sophia." Pain filled his eyes as he uttered her daughter's name.

"Daryl, you can't do this anymore," she replied, reaching over Tilly and grabbing his hand. He tensed at the contact but didn't pull away. "You didn't lose Sophia. You didn't lose Beth. You didn't lose Tilly. The things that happened to them have never, and will never be your fault."

Daryl shook his head and slowly pulled his hand away. "I promised myself I'd look after her," he admitted, "keep her safe, like I couldn't for the others."

"She's strong-willed, Daryl," Carol responded, glancing down to the unresponsive woman between them. "Having her back is one thing, but she's never going to let you give your own life for hers. That's what it would have taken to keep her away from Negan. She made the choice."

"Why's it always her choice?"

"Have I ever told you about the conversation I had with her when she and Lana first joined us?" she questioned, getting a shake of the head in return. "She asked why I had killed Karen and David, and when I told her it was to protect the group, she said she would have done the same thing. She gets it. She understands that you have to do everything you can to protect the people you love, regardless of the consequences." She leaned toward the hunter a bit, lowering her voice. "She _loves_ you, Daryl. She wouldn't have thrown herself to the lions if she didn't."

He nodded thoughtfully, still not fully believing her but giving her words some consideration.

"When she wakes up," Carol continued, "I guarantee you she won't be concerned about her condition. She's going to be elated that you're ok. Then she'll ask about the others."

"And that's when I'll have to break her heart," he replied sadly, not at all looking forward to telling her about the people they'd lost.

"Yes," Carol nodded, her voice strong but motherly, "and then you'll help her pick up the pieces. This is your turn to be the rock. She's going to be weak, she's going to be heartbroken. I can guarantee you her stubborn ass is going to fight you when you try to help her." That drew a small smirk from the hunter, lightening the air a bit. "But I know you'll keep helping anyway. She's going to need it, need _you_, even if she won't admit it. That's why you need to quit doubting yourself, overthinking everything. You have to have strength enough for the both of you."

Carol stood from her chair and made her way over to Daryl, laying her hands on his shoulders. "You'll be fine. She'll be fine. We'll get past this," she comforted. "We always do." She kissed him gently on the forehead before smiling at him one last time and making her way outside, leaving him alone with only Tilly's unconscious body and his thoughts.

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"Daryl?"

He thought he'd imagined her voice at first, his head jerking up from the book he'd been reading. Tilly's eyelids fluttered a bit but didn't open, her mouth moving wordlessly as her face scrunched up in pain.

"Matilda?" he whispered, leaning closer and laying a hand on her cheek. "Tilly, I'm here. I'm right here."

A small smile appeared on her cracked lips despite the fact that she was still in a lot of pain. "You're alive," she whispered hoarsely, her voice weak and dry from lack of use. 

"You are, too." He could feel tears begin to prick behind his eyes, a mixture of joy at her responsiveness and sadness at how much pain she appeared to be in.

She lay quietly for a moment, still smiling as relief washed over her. Her eyes snapped open soon after, however, as that feeling was replaced with panic.

"Beth?" she whispered. "Tyreese? Is everyone ok? How am I here right now? Rick didn't hand over Beth did he? Oh, god. What happened, Daryl?"

She rattled off her questions so fast he didn't have time to reply, only getting her to calm down when he laid his hand gently on her arm, bowing his head as he prepared himself to give her the news. His reaction told her something was wrong, and her eyes grew hot with tears in anticipation of his answer.

"I, uh," he stammered a bit, struggling with the words, "Beth and Tyreese are dead. Ashton, too."

"Oh, my god." Her hand flew to her mouth and it didn't take long for her to begin sobbing, each one causing her great pain as it rattled through her body but she didn't care. "How?" she asked desperately, turning her head toward him.

"Negan showed up at the gates early, whole bunch of his goons with him," he explained, each word paining him to convey. "He let Ty go first, all tied up with a bag over his head, then told us to hand over Beth before he'd give us you."

"She surrendered herself." Tilly knew the girl well enough to know that she would have done so willingly in exchange for the lives of her friends.

Daryl nodded slowly. "Before that, Sasha and Ashton untied Tyreese, but he was dead," he admitted. "He'd turned. He caught them off-guard and attacked Ashton, bit her."

Tears continued to stream silently down Tilly's face, soaking the floral sheets of her bed as he relayed the heartbreaking story.

"I told him to show you to us after that. Make sure you were alive, ya know," he continued, raising his eyes to meet hers. "You were bleedin' all over the place, all beat up and starved. Beth couldn't stand it. None of us could, but she just walked right over to them and they gave you to me. The second one of the Saviors laid hands on her she stabbed him in the neck." He paused for a moment, not wanting to say it out loud. "Then they shot her in the head."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Tilly hissed between sobs, her heart shattering into a million pieces right in front of his eyes. "Why the fuck would she do that? Why would she do that for me? This is all my fault. _I'm_ the one who should have died, not them."

"She looked up to you," he offered. "She did what she thought you would do. What you _did_ do for me. What you did for Lana when it was just you guys. You'd do it for any of us. She didn't see any other way out, so she did what she had to do."

"She should have just let him kill me." Her voice was even more broken through her heavy breathing, and she felt like she would never be able to stop crying. "I don't understand, Daryl. I don't understand why this is happening."

He reached forward and lifted her up a bit, sitting down on the bed and pulling her into his lap. She leaned her head against his solid chest and allowed herself to break down, her tears soaking his flannel shirt as he kept his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her in place.

"Everything hurts," she whispered against him, just loud enough for him to hear. "My body, my heart. Why is everything so painful?"

His chest clenched at her words, and her pain resonated throughout his body as well. Nothing hurt him more than seeing the person he cared for most, the woman he _loved _and whose strength he admired, hollowed out into a shell of her former self. All he could do was hold her.

"I know, Tilly," he whispered, kissing the top of her head softly. "Ain't nothing going to hurt you again. Ever," he swore. "I'm gonna make sure of that."


	34. Chapter 34

**I'm sorry the updates have been so infrequent lately, but I swear I'm working at least a little on this story every day. There will only be a few more chapters left in this story and then I'll be moving on to something new.**

**What do you all want to see out of my next story? A sequel? A Tilly prequel? Tilly/Daryl AU? Something completely different? What characters do you want to see more of in future stories? Any particular plots you'd like me to explore? I'd love to have you guys help me brainstorm.**

**Thank you so much for all of the follows/favorites/reviews. You all are awesome for spending your time reading my story, and I appreciate it so much.**

It was another three weeks before Pete thought Tilly was well enough to rest in her home, rather than the infirmary. She'd initially had a hard time ingesting enough nutrients, her stomach a mess from her time as a captive, so he'd insisted she stay hooked up to an IV for a while so she was at least hydrated.

Eventually, she showed great improvement with both her appetite and strength, and he allowed her to leave the confines of her makeshift hospital room with orders to take it easy for a while.

"You all set?" Daryl asked, laying a blanket over her as she adjusted herself against the headboard of their bed, a worn copy of _Jane Eyre_ in her hand.

"I'd prefer not to be stuck in bed anymore," Tilly huffed. "Plus, I already read the cliff notes to this awful book in high school. I'm sure there's some job I can help with, something I can _do_ to feel useful again. I feel like a lump."

"You ain't a lump." Daryl chuckled at the way her lips pouted defiantly. "Tell ya what, when I get back from this hunt we'll go for a walk, maybe go check on Maggie. Sound good?"

Tilly nodded, accepting that it was the only compromise she was going to get. "How long will you be gone?"

"Just a couple of hours," he assured her, taking a seat next to her on the bed. "Can't stay away from you much longer than that, anyway." She smiled as he leaned over and gently kissed her cheek.

"You can," she smirked, "you just _won't._"

"No, ma'am," he shook his head as he stood. "I _can't._ Ain't possible. Start gettin' all twitchy and shit. Withdrawls."

"I think you have a problem, Daryl Dixon," she chuckled, enjoying the way their playful banter had finally returned.

"Good problem to have." He shot her a quick smile before turning toward the door. "Carol's coming by to bring you some lunch in a bit. Try and rest til then."

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"How you doin?" Sasha would have snapped if anyone else had asked that question, but she and Maggie were in similar positions, so she had more patience and empathy for the other woman.

She turned from her position staring out the window of the guard tower and offered the brunette a forced smile. "It's hard to know anymore," Sasha responded with a shrug.

"I know what you mean," Maggie sighed, leaning against the wall beside her and staring out of the window. "We should be used to this by now, all this death."

Sasha shook her head. "Doesn't make it easier. Don't think it ever will."

Maggie nodded in agreement and took a deep breath, allowing her thoughts to wander a bit. "Mind if I sit up here with you for a while?" she asked. "Glenn means well, but I feel like he's coddling me. Bless his heart, the guy doesn't know when to just leave me be."

"Of course," Sasha replied, grasping the other woman's shoulder lightly. "I know the feeling. It comes from a place of love, I know that, but I wish the others would just let me deal with it on my own. Michonne's always breathing down my neck, like she expects me to just off myself or run away or something."

"Have you thought about it?" Maggie asked softly, turning to face her. "Ending it, I mean."

"Not in the sense of sticking a gun in my mouth or anything," Sasha answered honestly, "but the thought of taking off into a herd and just slashing as many as I could before they took me down has crossed my mind once or twice." She went silent for a minute, eventually shaking her head to bring her out of her thoughts. "I wouldn't do it, though. Dead or not, I couldn't do that to Ty. It'd break his heart. I have to stay and protect the others. It's what he would have wanted. I figure if I can do that, my story isn't over yet."

"Hadn't thought of it that way," Maggie nodded. "When Daddy died, it was the most horrible thing I'd ever experienced, but I still had Beth. We were separated, but I knew she was out there somewhere. But now…"

"You're the last Greene standing," Sasha finished. "The name ends with you."

Maggie nodded, glad her friend had been the one to say it out loud, the reality a lot for her to process.

"I'm pregnant," the brunette blurted suddenly, though the usual joy of an expectant mother was lacking from her face.

"Wow," Sasha sighed, running a hand over her face as she processed the news. "How do you feel about that?"

Maggie shrugged and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "It's bittersweet, I guess. I hate that I don't have Beth or Daddy to share it with."

"You have Glenn," Sasha reassured her, "and you have all of us. Look at what happened with Judith. She's not just Rick and Lori's. She has all of us to love and take care of her. Your baby will have that, too."

"You're right," Maggie sighed, "I know that, but it's just a lot to process right now. I keep thinking back to what happened with Lori. _I _killed her. I had to in order for Judy to make it. I'm terrified the same thing will happen to me and I'll leave my kid motherless. I don't want anyone to have my blood their hands the way that I have Lori's."

"Hey," Sasha said quietly, pulling her friend into a hug, "you can't do that. You can't blame yourself for Lori's death. I didn't know her, but I'm sure she's grateful for what you did."

"I know," Maggie drawled, her voice catching a bit. "I _want_ to be excited, Glenn is, but it feels so wrong to be bringing new life into this world where we're just surrounded by death all the time."

"That's why this is such a good thing," Sasha smiled, one of her first since her brother's death. "We could all use a little hope right now, and what better to bring that than new life?"

"You're right," Maggie nodded, her hands moving to her still-flat stomach. "This baby is a gift. I need to treat it like it is."

"Hershel would have been the best grandpa," Sasha offered, her smile growing as she thought of the old man.

"Yeah." Maggie's voice cracked a bit, but she too couldn't help the smile that appeared on her lips at the thought. "The best."

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Aside from the issues resulting from the encounter with the Saviors, Rick had a host of problems that, as Sheriff, he had to take care of in Alexandria. The most pressing of those being one Carol had brought to his attention the day before.

_"__Pete's beating Jessie," she said matter-of-factly as she barged into his home. "I think he's hurting their son, too." _

_Rick felt his blood begin to boil at the revelation. His friendship with Jessie had been blossoming since early after their arrival in the safe zone, and though the fact that she was a married woman deterred him he had to admit there was an obvious mutual attraction between them. _

_"__How do you know?" he asked, keeping his growing temper under control. _

_"__She all but told me," Carol explained, "but I've been noticing the signs for a while. I know too well what a battered woman looks like, Rick."_

_It was true. If anyone knew how to see through the pleasant façade the Anderson family showed to the rest of the town it would be a woman who had been in that exact situation herself. _

_Carol stepped closer to her friend and spoke more quietly. "If you need proof-"_

_Rick held up his hand and shook his head. "I trust your word, Carol. You wouldn't tell me this on a whim."_

_"__You have to kill him," she replied, not the slightest bit of hesitation in her voice. _

_"__We should speak to Douglas first," he suggested. "We aren't exactly on his good side after what happened with Negan."_

_Carol shook her head. "I already have. He's known for a while. He told me Pete was their most talented doctor, that they need him too much to act against him."_

_That was all the motivation Rick needed. If the leader of Alexandria was too much of a coward to deal with the problem, he would take matters into his own hands._

"Good morning, Jessie," Rick smiled awkwardly as she answered her front door, stepping back a bit and gesturing for him to come inside.

"Hey, Rick," she greeted. "Something I can help you with?"

He closed the door behind him, and after giving the house a quick glance he got right to the point. "Pete's been hurting you," he spat. "I know."

The smile immediately dropped from her face as she took a step closer to him, keeping her voice low. "It's none of your concern, Rick," she whispered. "You shouldn't be here. I can take care of myself."

"For now," he hissed. "What happens when it gets out of hand one day and he _kills_ you, huh? If he comes at you with a knife, you think you can take care of yourself then?"

"Rick, I-"

"Listen, Jessie, you say the word and I will take care of it," he promised. He understood her fear, but he would do everything in his power to make sure he kept her from further harm. "You're not a fool. You know what he's doing is wrong. You can't stand here and defend him and tell me everything will be _fine._" He began to pace in front of her, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Her face softened a bit as she thought for a minute. "Would you do this for anyone else?" she asked quietly.

Rick hesitated for a moment, pondering her question. "No," he answered honestly. "All you have to do is say 'yes' and I'll handle it."

"Yes."

"Hey there, buddy!" Pete's voice boomed from the stairs, and Rick wondered how much of the conversation he'd heard. "What can I do for ya?" The surgeon's words were slurred, as if he were drunk.

"You need to gather some of your things and come with me," Rick said forcefully.

Pete scoffed as he looked back and forth between his wife and the officer. "And why is that, Sheriff? So you can fuck my woman?" The larger man approached them slowly, his gate awkward and stumbling. "I've seen the way you look at her," he accused, leaning in toward Rick.

Rick grabbed the man's arm and attempted to turn him toward the door, but Pete shoved him away roughly.

"I know what you've been doing!" Rick yelled, no longer caring who heard them. "Beating your wife and kid? What kind of a man are you?"

"Get _out_ of my house, Rick," Pete hissed, attempting to back the shorter man toward the door.

"That's not happening," Rick retorted, unafraid of the threat in front of him. He'd faced a psychopath with a tank, not to mention hordes of undead who wanted to eat him, so he wasn't the least bit intimidated by a big, angry drunk. "Just come with me, Pete," he said, attempting to level his voice in the hopes the doctor would calm down as well. "We'll get you set up in another house. It doesn't have to go down like this."

"Like what, huh?" Pete chuckled, backing Rick against the wall and pressing his body against him. "You gonna kick my ass, Rick? You gonna come in my own home and _kill_ me?"

Rick's hand instinctually flew to the pistol he had hidden beneath his coat, but Pete's fist connected with his jaw before he could grab it, knocking him off balance. A flurry of kicks and punches ensued as the men began to fight, Jessie's screams barely audible over the chaos.

The sound of shattering glass erupted a moment later as the men went flying through the front window of the Anderson house, continuing to throw blows at each other as they rolled off of the porch and into the street.

Rick landed under the larger man and Pete took advantage of his position and wrapped his hands around the sheriff's throat. He clawed at the doctor's face, unable to gain enough momentum to shake him off.

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he felt the weight of Pete leave his body. When he looked up, he could see Daryl climbing up from where he had tackled the other man to the ground.

The officer rose to his feet slowly and walked to hover over the out-of-breath Pete. "You will _never_ touch them again," he growled between his heavy breaths. "Do you know what it's like to have your wife and child die, and it be your fault?" At that point he was screaming, his own emotional turmoil pouring out as he reprimanded the other man. "No! You'll never know what that's like, because if you _ever_ touch them again I'll fucking kill you!"

"Don't do this, Rick," Douglas hissed, stepping out of the crowd that had appeared around them.

"Or what?" Rick scoffed. "You'll kick me out?"

He pulled the pistol from his belt and held it straight ahead, pointed in the senator's face.

"Rick-" Douglas plead, holding his hands up in front of him.

"I'm not going to let you ruin this place," Rick swore. "It's too important. You can't be trusted to keep this place, these people, safe anymore. We have to control who lives here!"

"That's never been more clear to me than it is right now," Douglas replied pointedly, Rick's gun still hovering in his face.

"Me?" Rick laughed, lowering his gun as he began pacing around the group. "You're talking about _me?_ Are you insane? I'm doing what need to be done! Can't you see that?"

To the rest of the group Rick looked like a madman, a caged animal ready to strike at any minute. His face was covered in cuts from the window, blood rolling in small lines down his sweaty face. His eyes were ignited with rage, his movements erratic.

"Pete needs to be stopped!" he continued, waving his gun around dangerously as he addressed the rest of the crowd. "I'm the one who makes the hard decisions around here! I'm the one who will keep you people safe! You _need_ me. If you think you'll survive long without me, you're _wro-" _

Rick collapsed to his knees suddenly as someone hit him in the back of the head with a rock, effectively stopping his diatribe.

"Michonne?" he whispered, looking up to see his friend was the one who had clobbered him.

"Get his gun," she said flatly, leaving the Sheriff confused on the ground.

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"Well, that walk was more interesting than I expected," Tilly remarked as she and Daryl made their way back into their home. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he huffed, holding her arm, a bit unnecessarily, as she made her way to sit on the couch. "Just scuffed my arm up a little when I knocked that asshole off of Rick."

Tilly nodded and leaned her head back against the soft cushions. "You think they'll kick Rick out?"

"Not if they know what's good for 'em," he replied, his loyalty to his friend unwavering despite his outburst.

"We're going to end up having to take this place, aren't we?"

Daryl's head whipped toward Tilly, a bit stunned at the question. "Dunno," he shrugged. "They don't seem to know what the hell they're doing, though."

"What the deal with Pete?" she pried. "I mean, I heard what Rick said while we were out there, but I don't know the whole story."

"Carol told me all about it," he answered, plopping down next to her on the sofa and pulling her legs up so they rested across his lap. "He's been beatin' on his wife, maybe their kid, too. Douglas knew about it and didn't do nothin' cause he's the best doctor they got."

"Shit," Tilly sighed, running a hand through her slightly tangled hair. "What would they do if he ended up killing them? No wonder Rick flipped."

"I get why he did it," Daryl replied, "but he can't go runnin' off half-cocked like that. That's how Shane was toward the end there." Tilly hadn't heard much about the officer's former best friend, only that he had to kill him, so her ears perked up at the mention of his name.

"He had his eye on Lori, ya know. They snuck around together at the beginning of all of this when she thought Rick was dead," he explained. "When Rick showed back up she called everything off with Shane, but he couldn't let go. He thought Rick couldn't keep her and Carl safe. It got worse when he found out she was pregnant, that it might be his. He started gettin' all explosive, taking matters into his own hands. That's how we found Sophia, Carol's little girl. Hershel had all these walkers locked up in the barn, thinkin' they were sick, and once Shane found out he went and busted the locks off of the place. Sophia was in there."

Her heart sunk as she thought of how Carol must have felt in that moment, but she quickly pushed those feelings out of her mind. "You can't have camp near a building full of geeks," Tilly remarked, "it's not safe."

"Nah," Daryl shook his head, "he was right about that, but he went about it all wrong. He just passed out guns while Rick and Hershel were away, then let 'em all out. We mowed 'em down right in front of Hershel and his family. His wife and step-son among 'em. Not to mention we didn't know how many were inside. Could have gotten overrun."

"So you think Rick is turning into Shane?" the redhead asked earnestly, unsure of his intentions in telling the story.

"He's more like him than he'd ever admit," Daryl responded, chewing on a thumbnail as he thought. "Difference is, Rick would never kill Pete _just_ to get his wife. He's doing it to protect her, to show these people the things they can't put up with if they want this place to work."

"Has he ever flipped out like this before?"

Daryl nodded at that, remembering their time at the prison. "After Lori died we lost him for a while. He'd go wanderin' off, chasin' ghosts. Go off into the tombs by himself and kill as many walkers as he could find. He couldn't even look at Judith for a while."

"What brought him back?" she asked, more curious than she'd like to admit about their leader's past.

"Guess it was the mess with the Governor. He realized he had to get his shit together or more of us would die. He was still different, though," he observed. "Harder, I guess. Figured out Shane wasn't completely wrong about needing to make the hard decisions so we could survive."

"Sounds like the two of them had a lot to learn from each other," she remarked, leaning her head back against the couch as the hunter absently ran his hand over her calf.

"Mmm," Daryl grunted in agreement. "Shame they never figured that out. Shane was an asshole, but he was strong. Coulda used him a time or two since then."

"Rick isn't stupid," Tilly added, "I'm sure after he sleeps it off he'll realize he needs to be a little more subtle when it comes to these things. We're not outside anymore. This is civilization." She paused for a moment. "As close as we'll ever get to it again, anyway."

Daryl nodded silently for a moment before brushing her legs gently off of his lap. He stood, offering his hand to her and pulling her to her feet.

"How you feelin'?" he asked, concern suddenly overtaking his face. Truth be told, he hadn't even wanted her to go for a walk that afternoon, knowing she was too stubborn to let him know if she had overexerted herself. With all of the excitement that had ensued, he knew she had to be exhausted.

Tilly chuckled a bit at the look he gave her. "I'm fine, Daryl," she smiled. "It was nice to get out. Hell, it was nice to see some drama that didn't involve me." Truth be told, she was completely wiped out. Her whole body ached, and her muscles were screaming from the exertion of walking farther than she had in weeks, but she wasn't about to admit her weakness. She'd never regain her strength if she didn't push herself a bit.

"We should get to bed." He held tight to her hand as he led her toward the stairs, wrapping an arm around her waist as she began the climb toward the bedroom.

"It's still early," she protested as she reached the small upstairs hall. "It's not even dinner time yet."

"I know," he smirked, giving her a gentle push toward the bedroom door. "Still got some of that casserole Carol made the other day in the fridge. I'll heat us some up and we can eat in here."

Tilly couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at his plan. "How weird is it to be talking about heating up leftovers?" she asked. "We've spent the last couple of years eating cold canned goods and roasted squirrel. Tuna casserole is something I never thought I'd encounter again."

"Life's funny like that," he chuckled, only letting go of her when she sat down on the bed.

"You don't have to escort me everywhere, ya know," she scolded him playfully. "I'm damn-near back to full strength now."

"Ya ain't," he disagreed. "Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

He made his way downstairs, leaving Tilly to make herself comfortable on the bed. The only sounds in the house were the shuffling of plates and the soft _beep_ of the microwave buttons. A few minutes later he returned with a plate of casserole and two forks, and she scooted over to make room for him on the bed, folding her legs in front of her as she stared down at the food.

"No offense to Carol's cooking," she said carefully, turning up her nose a bit, "but all of a sudden I'm not really feeling this." Her stomach churned at the smell of the warm fish, and she fought against the urge to run to the bathroom and empty its contents. "I think I'm gonna pass."

"The hell you are," he scolded, all but shoving a fork into her hand. "You've gotta eat. Wife-beatin' doctor's orders. Need to get a few more pounds on ya if you wanna get back in fightin' shape."

"Maybe I don't wanna get back in _fighting shape_," she shot back. "Maybe I've accepted my position as a delicate flower."

Daryl rolled his eyes, which made her chuckle lightly. "You like bein' in the middle of the fight too much for me to believe that shit. Just eat, Matilda. I mean it. Makes me nervous you bein' all weak like this."

"Me, too," she admitted. "It's just such a pain in the ass having to regain all the strength I'd worked so hard to build."

Daryl nodded in understanding and took a large bite of the casserole, glad to know she was only messing with him.

"We still haven't really talked about what happened that day," she said softly as she stabbed a bit of food onto her fork. She was nervous to initiate the conversation, but after weeks of putting it off it was time for them to talk about the day Negan took her.

"Should have just let him kill me," he replied, just as quietly. He focused his eyes on the plate, carelessly shoving a bite into his mouth as his mind raced back to that day. He was so sure that was the day he was going to die. He had accepted it, even been glad that it was him instead of any of his friends. Instead, he ended up watching the person he cared about most in the world dragged away as he sat watching helplessly.

"You only told me you loved me because you were about to die," she said bluntly, "but I know you meant it. You haven't said it out loud since, but you show me every moment that I'm with you."

He sat his fork down and began gnawing at his thumbnail, nervousness suddenly overtaking his entire body at the conversation. Not even the walking dead scared him as much as feeling vulnerable.

"I love you, Daryl," she responded, and he rose his gaze to meet hers as the words hit him. "That's why I did it. You would have done the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"Wouldn't think twice," he admitted. "You sure you mean that, though?"

"I know you get frustrated with me," she began, ignoring his question. "I know I make bad decisions, that I'm too quick to act on instinct, but I'll never regret pushing you out of the way. The only thing I regret is what happened to the others."

"It's our fault, what happened to Beth," he sighed. "We coulda fought, gotten you back that way, but we just let her go."

Tilly shook her head, unable to even imagine a happy ending to the events that unfolded at the gates that day. "Fighting them would have been foolish," she offered, taking his hand in hers. "They'd have killed all of you, me included."

"Weren't no good way for that to end," he replied, Tilly nodding in agreement. "Tell me what happened to you while you were there."

"It's not important," she shook her head, not particularly wanting to relive those days. "It's over."

"Tilly," he said softly, reaching out and grabbing her chin so she was forced to look at him, "I need to know."

She paused for a moment, taking in the sincerity in his eyes before she begrudgingly gave in. "They blindfolded us until we were inside," she began, "so I'm not sure exactly where they're living, but I was held in some sort of apartment. It had a bedroom and a bathroom, at least. When we first got there I just started screaming for Tyreese, hoping to anything he was nearby. He heard me and yelled back, said something about counting the flights of stairs as they brought us in. They beat him for what he told me, and after that I never heard from him again."

Her eyes became hot with tears as she remembered the sounds of pain that came from his direction that day. "Negan-" she shook her head, not wanting to tell him what he had done.

"What did he do?" Daryl pried, rage boiling inside of him. "What'd he do to you?"

"He-" Tilly hesitated, shutting her eyes tightly, "he came to my room the next morning. He started telling me about how they were going to starve us, only feed us enough so we wouldn't die so we'd be too weak to fight back. Also said something about making me look more pitiful to mess with you. Then, he got real close to me." She shook her head, not wanting to relive the moment he touched her. "I tried to back away, but he was strong. He _kissed_ me. I fought as hard as I could, and eventually he pulled away and said something about how he _just needed to do that_. The next time anyone messed with me was the day they brought us here. They beat the shit out of me, threw a bag over my head, and when we got outside the guy who was carrying me stuck his knife in my ribs."

The last few sentences were lost on Daryl, his mind unable to focus on anything but Negan's lips on Tilly's. He had never wanted to rip someone apart so much in his life. He had seen the way Negan acted toward her when she was forced to escort him around Alexandria, but he thought that was just a show to piss him off. But this, _this_ was something he'd done in private for his own enjoyment.

"Daryl," Tilly's voice broke through his fog and he turned to look at her. "Daryl, your face is red. Are you alright?" She held her hand lightly against his cheek, but he shook it off quickly and pushed himself off of the bed.

"I'm gonna kill him," he growled, rage bubbling behind his words. "Bad enough he hurt ya like he did, but then he-" His voice broke off and he shook his head, not wanting to say it out loud.

"That's all he did," she assured him. "No one else even tried to touch me like _that_."

"That ain't enough?" he asked pointedly, stopping in his tracks to face her. "How many times does this shit have to happen to you before you realize it's a _big fucking deal._"

"Listen, Daryl," she began, slowly pulling herself off of the bed and approaching him, "learn something from what happened to me. I know how you feel right now, trust me, but you can't do anything stupid."

His gaze drilled into hers as she dared to take another step closer and let her hands rest on his hips. "He's smart," she admitted. "Too smart, and he's willing to play dirty. The truth is, we're not going to take him out ourselves. Not our group, maybe not even if we got all of Alexandria behind us."

"There's other settlements 'round here, right?" he asked. "Aaron said something about one just as big as this one."

Tilly nodded. "The Hilltop. I've never been there, but Heath showed us where it was on the map once. It's a few hours South."

She could practically see his mind turning as he looked down at her, and she figured out quickly exactly what he was planning.

"I need to talk to Rick," he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. "Just cause we can't do it alone don't mean we can't do it."

"You should probably wait until this wave of crazy passes," she said against him. "We all want to kill Negan, but right now we're on shaky footing with Douglas. We need to let things calm down a bit before we try anything or we'll end up out on our asses."

Daryl nodded hesitantly and placed a kiss on her temple. He knew she was right, but it took everything in him to fight back his instinct to run out the door that very second and put an arrow in the head of every one of those men who had laid a hand on her.

"I think Maggie's pregnant," Tilly blurted, snapping him out of the moment.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her with a puzzled expression. "She tell ya that?"

"Nah," she shook her head, "but there's just something a little _off_ about her. Plus, her boobs look bigger." Daryl snorted at that, and Tilly was glad to see the shift in his mood. "When my friend Megan got knocked up in college that was the first sign. Plus, she and Glenn aren't doing anything to prevent it as far as I know. I've never seen him grab any kind of condoms or birth control while we were out, and he's too terrible at keeping his mouth shut to do that stealthily."

"We ain't exactly been careful either," Daryl added, the seriousness returning to his face.

"No," Tilly agreed, "I guess we haven't." She went silent for a moment, her mind wandering to how lucky they had been to have avoided that so far. "Do you _want_ kids, Daryl?" she asked nervously. "I mean, with me."

The hunter shrugged. "Ain't never really seemed like a possibility for me. I guess I wouldn't mind it, but it ain't really safe anymore."

"Especially if Rick ends up killing the best doctor in town," she added.

"What about you?" he replied. "You ever thought about having kids?"

"I've thought about it, yeah," she answered, "but that was back before all of this. I always thought I'd like to have a daughter someday, raise her the way my mom couldn't, ya know? That's cheesy, but-"

"I know what ya mean," he cut her off.

"I guess you do," she sighed. "You'd be a great dad. I've seen you with Judith."

Daryl's face softened at the little girl's name and a small smile appeared on his lips. "Lil' Asskicker likes everybody," he replied, "but, yeah, we're buds."

"Beth told me once about how you went out to find her formula after her mother died." The mention of her friend pained her, but she didn't want to forget her by dancing around her name. "She told me how sweet it was to see you feeding her and cooing at her when you got back."

His face turned bright red, but he still smiled at the memory. That had been an impossibly hard day for all of them, losing Lori, T-Dog, and maybe even Carol, but that moment had been a bright spot for him. Judith had injected a little bit of hope into their dark lives.

"You seem to be hintin' at somethin'," Daryl prodded, raising an eyebrow at the redhead.

She shrugged and absently began to run her hand up and down his bicep. "I'm not stupid enough to think having a kid anytime soon is a good idea, with all this Negan mess and whatnot, but I'd like to someday," she looked up into his eyes, "with you."

His stomach dropped suddenly, like when you drive over a hill too fast. They had just been discussing that very thing, but hearing those words come out of her mouth was both terrifying and exhilarating. He'd never dreamed any woman would want to have his child, especially not on purpose.

"You sure about that?" he asked, unbelieving.

"Positive," she replied. "But you'd have to be willing to put up with huge, pregnant, hormonal Tilly for nine months. I can't imagine that'll be pleasant."

He chuckled and shook his head, pulling her close to him again. "Won't be no trouble at all," he whispered. "I bet it'd suit ya, anyway."

"We should be more careful until then, though," she added. "I don't imagine I'll be going on runs for a couple more weeks, but I can ask Glenn to pick us up some stuff."

"I was thinkin' about goin' with them on a run later this week," Daryl responded. "I'll just get it myself. Don't need that kid knowin' all of my business."

"What's he going to do, Daryl?" she laughed. "Shout it from the rooftops? _Daryl Dixon is banging Matilda Snow!_" she mocked.

He shook his head and held her out at arms-length. "Crazy woman."

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"Ding dong, fuckers!" Negan's voice rang out, causing all of the Alexandrians within earshot to collectively cringe. "We're here to collect!"

Maggie stared the group of Saviors down as she slowly pulled open the gate, the morning light making her squint her eyes a bit. Though she wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in each of their foreheads she maintained her composure and stuck to silently glaring.

"Hello there, darlin'," the dark-haired leader drawled as she came into sight. "I hope what happened to your sister doesn't fuck up my chances with you."

"Piss off," Carol spat, stepping beside the brunette and silently laying a hand reassuringly against her back. "Come in and get what you came for. You've done enough to her."

"Chill the fuck out, lady," he chuckled in response. "Didn't know her mom was hanging around. Bring 'em in, boys!"

At his call, his men drove the pair of trucks through the gate, an irritated Maggie latching it behind them.

"They weren't supposed to come til tomorrow," Maggie whispered to the older woman as she laid her hand on the pistol at her hip.

"He's full of surprises," Carol shook her head and squeezed her friend's arm reassuringly. "Once we get everything else around her straightened out we'll take care of him, though. Don't worry."

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"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Olivia called to a pair of Saviors as they rushed to shove food into a pile of cardboard boxes. "That's more than half."

"You gonna do something about it, Chubs?" a lanky man with short, blonde hair threatened. "We'll take whatever the fuck we wa-"

"You better calm your cock-sucker, Thomas," Negan interrupted, appearing through the door of the commissary. "Olivia here is fucking alright by me, and you're not going to talk to her like that. Got it, you sorry motherfucker?"

"Yeah," Thomas answered quietly, rolling his eyes as he went back to filling the boxes.

"Thanks," Olivia responded half-heartedly, "but how much are you guys taking? We need to keep our stock up with winter coming."

"Winter's coming for us, too," he chuckled. "It's colder than a witch's tit outside right now. We'll leave you enough that you don't starve."

"Where's the meat?" the redheaded man who was assisting Thomas called as he peeked his head into the large deep-freeze in the back of the room.

"The hunting crew should be back shortly," Olivia replied flatly, staring at the clipboard in her hands. "I'm not sure how much they were able to find, but they've been gone since yesterday morning so hopefully they got a good haul."

Negan practically licked his lips at the mention of the hunters, but it had nothing to do with the prospect of meat. No, he had been itching to fuck with one hunter in particular for weeks.

"Good," he said simply, a sick smile on his face. "Why don't you grab me something to drink while I wait, Olivia. I'm fucking parched."

The curly-headed woman nodded and begrudgingly went to fetch the leader a bottle of water from the cooler.

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Daryl let out an audible growl as he and his men entered the front gates, only to be greeted with the unwelcome sight of the Saviors' trucks.

"You want me to take the haul to Olivia?" a young, dark-headed man asked. "I know you don't want to deal with that prick after everything that happened with your people."

"S'fine, Alec," he hissed. "I got it."

Though he knew the other man was right to suggest he keep his distance, he wasn't going to give Negan the satisfaction of his avoidance. That would only reassure him that he had the power.

"Alright, man," Alec shrugged. "Keys are in the truck."

Daryl nodded a thank you and climbed into the cab of the old pickup they used to transport their kill. It had been a longer trip than most, Douglas insisting they begin stockpiling with the weather becoming colder, and they had quite a bit to show for it. Two deer, a boar, several rabbits, and a handful of squirrels were laid in a bloody heap in the bed of the truck as he drove it slowly through the streets of the safe zone, eventually pulling up next to the open back door of the commissary.

He gave himself a moment to breathe deeply, willing himself to keep his cool, before exiting the truck and slowly walking through the door, keeping his crossbow slung over his shoulder for good measure.

"Olivia," he greeted shortly as the familiar woman came into view.

"They're in here, Daryl," she said quietly, finding it necessary to warn him of the obvious.

"I know. Just here to drop off the kill," he replied.

Olivia nodded and turned her attention to her clipboard. "How much did you guys get?"

"Couple a' deer," he began, "a wild pig, few rab-"

"Hey there, loverboy!" Daryl cringed internally as the familiar, overly loud voice boomed through the small room. "What'd ya bring me this time?"

"Didn't bring ya nothin'," the hunter spat. "Brought it for our people, but that ain't gonna keep your useless ass from taking most of it, I bet."

"You're right," Negan chuckled, patting the other man roughly on the shoulder, "it sure as hell isn't."

"Don't fucking touch me," Daryl growled, recoiling from the larger man's touch.

"Still fucking salty, huh?" Negan shook his head. "What is it that's itching your ass exactly, loverboy? Thought we'd all decided we were fucking even. All you have to do is get on your goddamned knees and submit to the fact that I'm the motherfucking _king_ around here. I take what I fucking want. I do what I fucking want." He paused for a moment, as if deep in thought. "Well, I haven't exactly gotten to do _everything_ I want," he smirked down at Daryl, the hunter knowing exactly what he was referring to, "yet."

By some sort of miracle, it was at exactly that moment that Abraham came through to door with the intention of grabbing lunch for the building crew.

"The fuck is going on here?" the sergeant yelled as he took in the scene in front of him. Daryl had snatched the crossbow from his back, the tip of it pointed at the center of Negan's head. Negan, on the other hand, looked amused by the entire situation.

"Daryl, man," Abraham said calmly, "you can't do this. What's going on?"

Daryl kept his gaze locked on the grinning Savior, his finger twitching precariously over the trigger of the bow. "Why don't you ask that bastard?" he hissed. "Ask him what he did to Tilly."

"We saw what he did, bud," the redhead replied. "He fucked her up real bad, I know, but this ain't the way to handle it. Gonna get us into a whole mess of trouble."

Daryl shook his head slightly. "No. Ask him what _else_ he did."

Abraham raised an eyebrow as he considered the statement, his mind running through a million different scenarios and his own anger growing with each one that entered his brain.

"Oh calm down, assholes," Negan laughed. "I kissed your fucking woman, so what? You pissed she finally knows what it's like to be touched by a real man?"

"I'm going to rip your fucking head off and piss down your neck, you sorry piece of shit!" Daryl yelled.

"Maybe I should just pay her a little visit while I'm in town," Negan suggested casually. "See how she's healing up, whether she's ready to give it another go." The wink he threw toward the hunter finally caused him to snap.

He launched himself toward Negan, throwing his crossbow to the ground. If he was going to kill him, he wanted it to be with his bare hands. Before he could get close enough to throw blows, however, Abraham had him around the waist, saying whatever he could think of to his thrashing friend in an attempt to quell the situation.

"You go near her," Daryl threatened, "you even _look_ in her direction and I won't hesitate. I don't give a shit what happens after."

Abraham allowed the hunter to shake him off then, confident that the threat was the end of the exchange. Daryl hastily picked up his crossbow and threw it back onto his shoulder as he backed away, his hard gaze never leaving Negan.

"Why don't you head home, Daryl," Olivia suggested carefully. "Tilly will be anxious to see you. I can bring in the meat."

"Yeah," he replied shortly as he turned and quickly made his way out of the building.

He had no intentions of going home yet, though. No, he was going to find the one person he could trust to help him put an end to their Savior problem once and for all. In the throes of a breakdown or not, Rick would help him put that bastard in the ground and out of their lives.

Hell, maybe crazy, murderous Rick was exactly what he needed.


	35. Chapter 35

**Oh, hey there! I'm sure most of you have given up on this story by now, but I've been sitting on this chapter for literally months now. I've written and re-written it a bagillion times, eternally doubting the direction I was taking the story, but I'm honestly tired of leaving you guys hanging. I think I've finally regained my inspiration for this story and I hope there are some of you out there who still care enough about these characters to jump back in. **

**I promise I'm rewarding you with a BIG chapter for your patience. **

**If you're still following along, please leave a review and let me know. If no one is into this anymore (which I'd totally understand) I won't bother updating and will move on to something new, but if you're still interesting in seeing where things with Daryl and Tilly go, let me know!**

**Thanks so much!**

**-B**

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When Daryl made it to the Grimes' home, he was greeted by Douglas, his son Spencer, and Rick, who stood outside having what could only be described as a heated discussion.

"Look," Rick sighed, "I shouldn't have lost my head like I did, but you _know_ this problem isn't just going to go away."

"Pete has been moved to another house, Rick," Douglas assured him. "He won't be going near Jessie anytime soon."

Rick scoffed at the senator. "You really think that's going to stop him?"

"The whole town knows what he was doing now. He's going to have a lot more eyes on him, making sure he doesn't try anything," Spencer injected.

"We had a man in our group like him," Rick shared, "back when all this first started. He beat his wife and the whole group knew it." He conveniently left out that his wife was Carol, not sure she'd appreciate him sharing her past. "That didn't stop him. The only thing that ended that problem was him getting eaten by walkers."

"We're _not_ killing him, Rick," Douglas said firmly. "That's final."

"He's right," Daryl stepped into the small circle of men, standing close to Rick's side with his arms crossed against his chest. "If he wants to get to his wife, he will."

"We'll make sure-" Douglas was cut off abruptly by the booming voice of the aforementioned doctor.

"That's not my house!" Pete screamed, a machete clutched tightly in his hand. "You threw me out of my own house, you motherfucker!"

He stumbled menacingly toward Rick, but Spencer stepped between them, daring to lay his hand on Pete's chest.

"Pete," Spencer whispered, "you need to calm down."

Daryl quietly removed the pistol from his belt and held it out to Rick, the sheriff's weapons having been confiscated after the fight. Rick nodded a silent 'thank you' to his friend and held the gun down to his side, mostly out of sight.

"You don't just get to go back to your wife like nothing happened," Rick spat. "You're lucky that's all that happened to you."

"I won't be talked to like that," Pete yelled, struggling against Spencer's grip, "least of all by you!"

Without warning, Pete pulled back from Spencer. He pulled the machete above his head, and with one jerky, erratic motion sliced the blade through the younger man's neck.

Spencer's eyes grew wide, as did Pete's. He seemed just as stunned as the other men at what had transpired. Daryl took the opportunity to jump the doctor, knocking the machete from his hand and kicking it across the pavement.

Spencer fell to the ground, blood pooling out of his neck as he gasped for air.

"No!" Douglas cried, dropping to the street beside his son. "No, no, no, NO!"

While Rick wanted nothing more than for Douglas to accept that Pete was a danger to the group, it pained him to see the normally dignified man sobbing in a heap as he held the now-limp body of his son. Daryl remained silently on top of Pete, his knee dug roughly into the man's back as he held him down.

A moment later, Douglas sniffed before looking up and locking eyes with the sheriff. Noticing the gun in his hand, he finally said the words Rick had been waiting for all along.

"Do it, Rick."

Without a moment's hesitation, Rick stepped forward and put a bullet between Pete's eyes.

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"What happens now?" Morgan asked earnestly as he watched Michonne remove her uniform and place it into a hamper in the corner of the room.

"We bury Spencer and Pete," she answered flatly, "then we go on with our lives."

"You know it's not that simple," he responded, rising from the edge of the bed and grabbing her gently by the arms.

Michonne kept her head down, her walls instinctively going up as she let her lover's words sink in. She knew too well that the events of the day signaled a shift in Alexandria. You could practically feel it in the air.

Seeing he wasn't going to get a response, Morgan sighed and rubbed his hands gently down to her wrists.

"What do you think about how Rick is handling things?" he asked. "When I met him, he was naïve, gentle. He wasn't the man he is today. Hell, none of us are the same people we were, but he's just so… erratic."

Michonne snapped her head up at that, staring intensely into his eyes as she shook her head. "Rick does what needs to be done," she replied. "It isn't always the easy way, or even the _right_ way, but he's rarely wrong. Yeah," she sighed, backing away slightly, "I'm sure it's odd to see him like this for you, but he's adapted. He's _evolved. _I may not agree with how he handled the situation, but he knew where this was going. He didn't kill Pete. Pete killed himself."

Morgan nodded as he considered her words and immediately felt guilty about his judgement of the sheriff. The last time Rick had seen him, he had been out of his mind. Rick didn't cast him out because of it. He didn't immediately pin him as some sort of lost cause. Even after he'd gone as far as to stab the man, Rick still invited him to come live with his group.

"You're right," he admitted. "Rick has shown nothing but loyalty toward me, toward all of us. Whatever comes of this, I'm on his side."

A smile crossed Michonne's face then, and she pulled her thin tank top over her head, tossing it to the side and kneeling down in front of a surprised Morgan. "That's all I needed to hear," she smirked, her fingers yanking at the zipper of his dark jeans. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate a little _distraction_ from real life."

Morgan chuckled deeply and pulled his arms up behind his head. "I don't mind at all, darlin'."

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"I can't do this anymore, Rick," Douglas rested his head in his hands as he addressed the sheriff, unable to look him in the eye as he admitted his weakness. "Spencer was all I had left in this world, and I failed him." Though preparations were already being made for Spencer's burial, the leader still hadn't changed out his blood-stained clothing, afraid to cast away any part of his son.

Rick searched his brain for words to comfort the broken senator, but none came. He was right. He had failed his son, and now he sat alone because of his bad decisions. "What do you want to do?" was all he could bring himself to say.

"It's yours." Douglas raised his head, finally looking Rick in the eye. "It should have been yours from the moment you stepped through the gates."

"Are you sure?" Rick cocked his head to the side, studying the older man's face for any sign of hesitation.

Douglas nodded and wiped his hand across his still-damp eyes. "So," the senator began, "where do we go from here?"

"We deal with the Saviors," Rick responded immediately. "It isn't even just about the personal score we have to settle with them. We can't provide for our people and his as well and expect to make it very long."

"He's dangerous," Douglas lamented. "If I knew how to get rid of them I would have done it months ago."

"Dangerous?" Rick smirked. "You should have figured out by now that _we're_ the ones who are dangerous. He has the advantage against Alexandria, I'm not disputing that, but we don't have to act alone."

"The Hilltop," the older man nodded. "We haven't had much interaction with them, but we've never had any problems either. I know they have their own issues with Negan."

"Would they help us?" Rick asked.

Douglas thought for a moment before shrugging. "Maybe. Their leader, Gregory, is just as passive as I've been. I'm sure his people are fed up, though, even if he isn't willing to act."

"We'll go talk to him," Rick replied. "I'll round up our best people right now."

"Just be careful," Douglas warned the officer. "It may be a good idea to take at least part of the run-crew with you. They'll know the route to take to avoid Negan's checkpoints."

Rick nodded in acknowledgement of the senator's suggestion and made his way into town, a new sense of determination welling inside of him.

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"You sure you don't want me to come along?" Tilly griped as she watched the crew Rick had selected loading their supplies into a van. "I mean, I can be pretty convincing. I could talk to them if they're hesitant."

"We need to keep the group small," Rick replied calmly, laying a hand on the redhead's shoulder. "And with me, Michonne, Abraham, Glenn, and Daryl all going I want you here to help keep an eye on things. If something crazy happens, these people are going to need someone around who can fight. Lord knows they can't."

"Why not have Michonne stay here, then?" Tilly plead, not elated with the fact that her friends were undertaking a dangerous mission and she wasn't going to be there to help. "She's your second-in-command, right? And she isn't much of a talker-"

"Ya ain't comin'," Daryl snapped from behind them, making Tilly jump. Truth be told, he had begged Rick to make her stay behind. With the terrible luck she'd had recently he wanted at least one mission where he wasn't worried about her getting herself killed.

Tilly stepped closer to him and laid a hand on his hip. "I don't like you being out there without me. I mean, I know the others have your back, but I feel so helpless here, not to mention useless."

"You havin' my back seems to mostly consist of you almost getting yourself killed in my place," he hissed. "You're staying here. Ain't trapping ya behind these walls forever. Just this time."

Tilly chewed on her lip and nodded, finally giving up the fight.

"Just be careful," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing.

"Always am," he smiled, glad he'd won that battle. "We'll be back in a couple of days, hopefully with reinforcements."

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"We need to inventory the armory," Carol explained, glancing down at a list Rick had asked the others to complete in his absence. The group sat around the table where they'd had their very first meal in Alexandria, listening to the woman talk. "After Rick and the others return, we're going to begin weapons training for everyone in town. Hopefully in a couple of weeks we'll have at least half of them carrying at all times."

"We're going to need more ammo," Maggie injected, "I can tell you that. I was in there this morning and things are looking a little bare."

"I think I can help with that," Eugene said hesitantly. The group had mostly forgiven him for his lies, but he still kept to himself the majority of the time, only really speaking with Rosita and Tara. "Glenn found some literature about reloading ammunition and I've been scoping it out. If we start saving the casings, and the run crew can find the right equipment, I think it's doable."

"You sure that's in your realm of capabilities, Mr. Wizard?" Tilly scoffed.

"No offense, ma'am," Eugene replied indignantly, "but I think you're severely underestimating my skills. I may bend the truth sometimes, but I still have a brilliant scientific mind."

"I'd be happy for you to prove me wrong," Tilly chuckled. "That'd be a hell of an asset."

"Long as we could keep the operation hidden from the Saviors," Maggie added. "Negan'd be licking his lips to get a piece of that if he found out."

"We could find somewhere outside of town," Carol suggested. "I believe there are some silos a few miles east of here. Would something like that work?"

Eugene nodded. "Yeah, I reckon I could make that work. We'd need an energy source, though. Either more solar panels or a windmill."

"Alright," Carol began, making another note on the sheet in front of her, "next up are guard posts. Rick wants us to set up more of them."

Tilly bobbed her head in agreement. "If we set up two on each wall I think we'd be set. There isn't much visibility in some of those spots, but it'd be prudent to have eyes up there just in case someone tries to hop the walls."

"We gonna have enough people volunteering to cover watch?" Tara questioned, knowing the Alexandrians were neither capable of, nor willing to do, the hardest work.

"Don't matter if they wanna do it," Morgan replied. "Everyone pitches in. Everyone has a job. Wasn't that supposed to be the whole premise of this place anyway?"

"We just have to be careful," Sasha added, leaning her elbows on the table. "We can only assign folk who we can trust aren't going to half-ass the job. It's boring as hell, especially late at night, but when shit does hit the fan, which it will, we need to know whoever is on watch is actually paying attention."

"We can move Aaron and Eric off of recruiter duty and onto watch for a while," Morgan suggested. "Doesn't seem like we should be out searching for new citizens while we're going through this transition, and we know they'll take the job seriously."

Carol nodded and wrote down their names. "That's good. We should be pulling people from all but the most essential jobs for security. We'll run it by Rick."

"We'll have to wait to do anything until after the Saviors show the next time to collect supplies," Rosita observed. "They'll be here in a few days. We don't want them to see what we're putting together."

"When are they coming?" Maggie asked, fidgeting nervously as she thought of the people who had murdered her sister.

"Three days," Tilly replied flatly. "We have three days before they show. Let's hope our people are back from the Hilltop by then. I hate to think what will happen if he shows up and our best fighters are missing in action. He'll know something's up."

"He may already know," Morgan injected, staring down at his folded hands on the table. "Who's to say he doesn't have scouts watching this place? He may already know what we're up to, may have even followed them-"

"Stop," Carol interrupted. "We can't think like that. We all know that's a possibility, but there's no point bringing it up and stressing everyone out right now. God knows we have enough to worry about."

"What's the plan if Negan _does_ show before they get back?" Eugene asked sheepishly.

Tilly and Carol exchanged a sideways glance, drawing curious looks from the rest of the group.

The redhead cleared her throat and leaned her elbows on the table. "I'll run interference," she explained. She and the older woman had already spoken privately about the possibility, and had decided their best course of action would be to create the biggest distraction possible.

"You're not going to talk to him," Sasha insisted, shifting forward in her chair. "If Daryl found out-"

"He won't," Tilly cut her off. "He has some kind of weird fascination with fucking with me. If he's occupied with that, we have the best chance of distracting him from the fact that Rick and Daryl are gone."

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" Maggie asked, a heavy feeling in her chest as she thought back to the day the Saviors had shown up at their gates, and unconscious Tilly in tow.

"Hell no," Tilly chuckled humorlessly. "If I had it my way my only interaction with that sick fuck would be shoving my knife through his skull, but I don't have a choice. It's the best plan we have."

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"Well, well, don't you just look fucking lovely today."

Tilly swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the enormous man's words. True to form, Negan had showed up at their gates two days earlier than planned, ready to steal the lion's share of their hard-earned supplies. Unfortunately, Rick, Daryl, and the others had yet to return from their mission to the Hilltop. She hoped the hold-up was because they were getting to know the other people, and had nothing to do with the man standing in front of her.

"Bruises are finally gone," Tilly replied flatly, forcing her mouth into a tight smile. _Play nice, Matilda. Keep your cool,_ she reminded herself.

"Let's hope there's no need to fuck up that pretty face again, hmm?" Negan grinned maniacally and reached out to grab her chin lightly, turning her face up toward his. "There are _plenty_ of other things I'd rather be doing to it than bashing it in. Plus, your tits are looking _extra_ spectacular as of late. You and Loverboy got a little announcement for me?"

"None of those things you'd like to do will be happening, sorry to say," she snapped, her resolve cracking a bit as his twisted gaze studied her face. "And I'm afraid there's no announcement." She wondered for a moment if his observation meant anything, but quickly forced it from her mind.

Negan chuckled heartily and released her, allowing her to take a large step back. "Suppose I'd have Loverboy up my ass if I pulled anything right now, anyway." He studied the area around them briefly, the two of them standing just inside the gates of Alexandria. "Where is that little prick, anyway?" he asked. "Haven't seen hide-nor-fucking-hair of him or the sheriff since we pulled up."

"Daryl's hunting," she lied. "I'm not sure where Rick is. Saw him this morning, though. May have gone on a run or something. I know they were planning one for today so we could be stocked when you showed up, ya know, two days from now like was planned."

"I like to keep things spontaneous, Xena," he laughed. "Make sure you all don't forget that I can show up and take your shit anytime I fucking please."

"Well- aware," Tilly grumbled under her breath.

"So," the leader called, way too loudly for their proximity to each other, as he slung an arm over her shoulder, "didn't see the construction assholes outside like normal. You guys putting off your expansion plans?"

Tilly recoiled at his touch, but allowed it to happen. She needed to keep her cool, and she searched her mind quickly for an explanation that wouldn't give away their plans. "Short on supplies," she fibbed. "Plus, there have been more walkers around than normal. Rick decided it wasn't worth the risk right now."

Negan's eyebrows raised at her statement, and she realized she had inadvertently given away the change in leadership. "Sheriff Woody's in charge now, huh? How'd he pry the reigns away from that government fuck? They have themselves an old-fashioned duel in the town square?"

"Ain't like that," she rattled, trying to collect her thoughts. He'd know if she was lying, but she couldn't give too much away. "Douglas just decided it was time to pass the torch. Our group has experience outside the walls, he doesn't. Rick kept all of us alive out there, so he seemed like the right man for the job."

"Touching," Negan snarled.

"How long were you out there before you built your complex?" Tilly asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Few months," he admitted, much to her surprise. "Never shied away from getting outside of those walls every chance I got, though. Lucille gets cranky if she goes too long without bashing in some fucking skulls."

"Do you _enjoy_ killing people?" Tilly dared to ask, shrugging his large arm off of her shoulder and turning to face him. "I mean, you've killed three from our group and you don't seem the least bit fazed."

Negan let out a hearty guffaw at her accusation before turning suddenly serious and crouching down a bit so his face was inches from hers. "Come on, Xena," he began huskily, more quietly than before, "you can't tell me you've never felt tingly down betwixt those long legs of yours as you watched the life leave the eyes of some dumb bastard you stuck your fucking knife through."

"I've never killed a man who didn't deserve it," she countered, unnerved by his dark eyes piercing into her own but unwilling to back down.

"How many people have you killed, Matilda?" Hearing him call her by her real name sent chills through her spine. It felt too intimate. The only people who every called her by her full name were Lana and Daryl.

"I've lost count," she replied honestly, "but no one who wasn't a threat to me or my family."

"You're still going with that fucking family bit like it means something," he hissed. "That _family_ all but gave you and, what was his name?" he paused. "Tyrone?"

"Tyreese," she spat.

"Tyreese," he echoed. "They handed you both to us without so much as a fucking bullet thrown at our backs."

"They didn't have a choice." Tilly's voice was betraying her, the faintest crack passing through it as she willed herself not to tear up.

"Mmhmm," he nodded mockingly, "and then they let sweet, little Bethy throw herself right into the fire."

She dropped her gaze at that. Tilly knew the others didn't just _let_ Beth die, but the fact was the girl had sacrificed herself to save her. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to reconcile that.

"Did I strike a nerve, Xena?" Negan taunted, tilting her face back up to meet his and taking in the tears that had begun to leak from her blue eyes. "Shh, shh, don't cry. I know you were really _there_ to witness it, but it was pretty fucking ballsy on her part," he assured her, "even I'll admit that."

"Tills!" Sasha's voice cut through his diatribe, and in that moment Tilly had never been more thankful for her remarkably observant friend.

"Everything alright?" Tilly asked roughly, clearing her throat as she regained her composure.

"Run crew's back," Sasha answered cryptically, cutting her eyes harshly toward Negan who met her glance with his trademarked smirk. "Didn't find much," she lied, "but Daryl's looking for you."

"Thought he was hunting?" Negan pried.

Tilly shrugged. "Guess I was wrong. Don't keep tabs on him all the time." With that, she turned on her heel and bolted toward the lot where they kept the vehicles, anxious to see the hunter.

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"The Saviors are here!" Tilly called in warning to Rick as she approached the van. "Been here about an hour. I told him ya'll went on a supply run."

Rick sighed deeply, obviously displeased with the revelation, but muttered a 'thanks' to her before heading off the deal with that situation.

"How'd it go?" Tilly asked hopefully, turning to wrap her arms around Daryl's sturdy, but somewhat sweaty, form. She glanced around quickly at the rest of the group, making sure they were all accounted for.

Everyone had made it back, but Michonne and Abraham both looked a little roughed up. There was a large bandage wrapped around the sergeant's forearm and Michonne had a noticeable bruise on her cheekbone. They seemed otherwise unscathed, though.

Daryl gripped her to himself tightly for a moment. "They're in." A smile, the most genuine she'd seen from him in a while, adorned his lips as he pulled away and released her. "Gotta meetin' set up in a few days. Ran into a little trouble with one of the Hilltop's guys on the road, but that actually wound up working in our favor."

"You use him as a bartering tool?" she pried curiously.

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, made friends with him. Guy named Paul, goes by 'Jesus.' Good fighter. He caught Abe and Michonne by surprise and knocked them out. We overpowered him, tied him up. He rode with us for a couple of days, slept next to us. Come to find out, he'd gotten out of his restraints not long after we put them on and still didn't try any shit. We told him about our plan, and he helped us convince their cowardly fuckin' leader to let them join."

"Are the people willing to fight? How many of them are there?" Tilly asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she listened to him recount their trip.

"They have fifty or so who would be able to fight, not counting the kids and old folk. The ones we talked to seemed to be tired of the Saviors' shit, too." He paused for a moment and studied Tilly's splotchy face carefully. "You been crying?"

"I'm fine," she lied, giving him a half-smile. "Just a little run-in with the great leader himself."

"He do something to you?" Daryl growled, running his calloused hands over her fair cheeks, his harsh voice in contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

Tilly shook her head. "Nothing like that. He was just trying to get to me, talking about Beth. It's not like that's not always on my mind anyway."

Daryl relaxed, though only slightly, and ran his hand gently up and down her arm, eventually taking her hand in his own. "Gotta stop that," he said softly. "Beth made her choice. Would you have thrown yourself in the line of fire for her?"

The redhead nodded. "In a heartbeat. I loved the shit out of that girl."

"She felt the same," he replied, his light blue eyes meeting her slightly darker ones. "You saved her ass when you found her, helped her find her sister. I remember that first day ya'll were with us, after Terminus, we went hunting-"

"After you busted your ass on the tracks?" she smirked.

"Not my fault you're distractin'," he countered, drawing a bashful smile from Tilly. "Anyway, you told me about what happened to you and Lana in Memphis. Ya told me you didn't let it bother you anymore cause when you let yourself dwell on shit you get yourself killed."

"I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it," she sang, flashes of 'Alice in Wonderland' floating in her head.

Daryl shook his head at her and continued, "You gotta take that to heart, accept it. It's done. There ain't nothin' you can do about it now. I get survivor's guilt. We've all watched our friends die and wondered why it wasn't us, but you gotta move past it."

Tilly nodded and turned her gaze toward her worn boots.

"There you are!" Negan's voice boomed as he approached the group, arms outstretched like he was greeting old friends.

"Crazy motherfucker," Tilly mumbled under her breath before pasting on a fake smile and turning to greet him. "Seems our run crew has good timing. Told you they were due back soon."

Negan clapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder when he reached them, causing the hunter to pull back and swing his crossbow off of his shoulder, no longer willing to play along with the friendly front they were supposed to be putting on.

He chuckled at the hunter's reaction and playfully raised his hands in front of him. "Whoa, fucking, whoa, Loverboy," he laughed, causing Daryl's grimace to deepen. "No need to fucking draw on me. Just here to grab some food and shit. Xena didn't even know where the fuck you were earlier. Can't believe you'd run off without even telling your woman where the fuck you went."

"Last minute change in plans," Daryl growled.

"Anyway," the Savior clapped his hands together loudly as he turned toward Rick, whose hand also hovered above his weapon, "you folks find anything good, Sheriff?"

"Just the usual," Rick answered vaguely. "Canned food, little ammo. Nothing special."

"Where'd you go scouting?" Negan drilled, stepping closer to their leader. Rick was unfazed though, at least outwardly, and maintained eye contact with the larger man.

"Bout twenty miles north of here," he lied. "Trying to scout out a little farther before winter hits. We've exhausted most of the towns around here."

"Just twenty miles?" Negan scoffed, moving to stick his head in the back of the vehicle as he began to rifle through their supplies. "C'mon officer, you gotta try harder than that."

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Tilly didn't say a word as she and Daryl made their way through the quiet streets of Alexandria on the way back to their little, blue house. As they came up on the porch he opened the door for her, and the redhead entered wordlessly, the tension silently rolling off of her in waves.

No sooner had Daryl shut the door, it seemed the tension had finally come to a head. Tilly let out an almost barbaric scream as she snatched an ornamental vase off of the kitchen table and slammed it into the wall. It was enough to make the hunter jump in shock, and he stood frozen as her shoulders heaved with her labored breaths, a piece of the broken vase still in her hand.

A few moments later, the first drop of blood landed on the faded linoleum of the kitchen floor.

"Hey, hey," Daryl whispered, approaching her cautiously as she stared blankly at her feet. "You're bleedin', Red. Talk to me."

He tested the waters a bit, laying his hand gently on hers and gauging her reaction before he dared to pry the broken trinket from her fingers and examine the damage.

"Matilda," he coaxed, "please tell me what's goin on."

"Hate that he can do this to me," she said, barely audible.

"What do ya mean?"

Tilly shook her head and went to sit at the small table, laying her head in her hands, seemingly oblivious to the wound on her palm.

"Fucking Negan," she replied as he sat down beside her, gently rubbing her tense shoulders. "He's just got my number. I thought I had him played, but he's the one who really knows how to get to me. All he has to do is say is Beth's name and I turn into a whimpering mess."

"He's smart," Daryl observed, "he's always working to figure out our weaknesses. The only way you take the power away from him is by forgiving yourself for Beth's death. Wasn't your fault."

"But it was," she argued, sniffling.

"No," he shook his head firmly, lifting her chin so she had to look at him. "This is the last time I'm gonna say this. You're wrong, Matilda. Only reason you think that is cause he's gotten in your head. This is no one's fault but his. He started this." His chest felt heavy as he took in her blood-streaked face, and he reached out to gently take her bleeding hand into his own. "You didn't start this. You saved Beth in those woods. You brought her back, gave her more time with her sister. Ya saved my life, and he took that opportunity to break ya down. He knew you weren't gonna die, knew we wouldn't let ya. He knew all-along she'd sacrifice herself. You were just a pawn in his plan to fuck with us, make us weak."

"So I'm a liability," she scoffed, casting her eyes toward the oak table.

"Never been a liability," he responded, leaning toward her. "He's targeting you because you're one of our strongest. He's smart enough to know that it doesn't do ya any good to pick off the weak ones. He's been fucking with you because he's seen what you can do. He knows you're tough, and brave as hell, and he's threatened by that."

"I'm a mess," she chuckled humorlessly. "Ain't nothin' threatening about that."

"Can't let him win, Tills," he encouraged her, laying a hand on her wet cheek. "You're stronger than this. He's smart, but you're smarter. Hell girl, you're sure-as-shit smarter than me."

Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, and she felt her heart melt a little at the sincerity in them. "I make a lot of bad decisions, Daryl."

The corner of his mouth quirked up momentarily at her innocent expression and he shook his head. "They aren't bad decisions. My fault you feel that way, but that's just cause I have a hard time knowing you'd sacrifice yourself for me. I'll always think any decision that puts you in danger is a bad one, but that don't make it true."

"Even knowing it lead to Beth and Ty's deaths, I'd do it all over again," Tilly admitted. "I'd knock you out of the way of that bat every time."

"I know," he smiled genuinely. "I'd die a million times over if it meant you could live, Matilda. Have a hard time reconciling that anyone would sacrifice themselves for me, but I understand the compulsion. Love the shit out of you, Tills."

"I love the shit out of you too, Daryl," she smiled.

Daryl blushed a little at her response and turned his attention to her injured palm. "I don't know why ya do, but nothin' could ever make me doubt that now. I'd say you've proved it."

"Shit, Daryl," she sighed, "why do you always have to go and make me feel better? Feeling better always makes me feel even guiltier somehow."

"I get it," he nodded. "Sucks that it works like that, but that's just how things work now. Survivor Guilt or whatever-the-fuck they call it." He sighed as he pulled gently at the slash on her hand, drawing a hiss from her. "Need to have Denise look at this. Think it needs stitches."

"You can sew me up," she replied. "You've done it before."

"Yeah," he chuckled lightly, "but we ain't in the middle of a gun fight in a pharmacy now. Got us a real, bonafide doc now. C'mon," he encouraged, helping her up from her chair and leading her toward the door. "Let's get over there before the clinic closes for the day. Ya know she gets grumpy if we pull her away from supper to patch someone up."

"Last thing I want is a pissed-off person poking me with a needle," she laughed as she rose from the table.

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A while later, Tilly found herself settled on an exam table in the infirmary as Denise looked over her wound. After insisting she was fine, Daryl had eventually agreed to go discuss the group's plans with Rick rather than hovering over her. The truth was, she had an ulterior motive in being left alone with the doctor.

"Can I ask you something unrelated to my hand, Denise?" Tilly asked, blushing a bit as the words left her mouth.

"Of course," Denise responded, not looking up from where she was cleaning a few remaining shards of glass from the cut.

"Do you, uh," she hesitated for a moment, a bit terrified about how the situation was going to play out. She had never dealt with such things before, and while she was ashamed to admit it, her encounter with Negan had raised concerns within her that were completely unrelated to her feelings about Beth. "Do you have a pregnancy test?"

The doctor's gaze quickly shot up to study Tilly's face, her brown eyes wide under her raised eyebrows. "I do," she answered calmly, in direct contrast to her expression. "Are you late? Is that why you're concerned?"

"Yes," she lied. The truth was, she had no idea when the last time she'd had her period was, but she knew it'd been a while. "And really, I just have a feeling that something's off. I don't know how to explain it."

Denise nodded and moved to dig through a filing cabinet beside the table. After fumbling through it for a minute she returned with a long, plastic-wrapped package and laid it next to Tilly. "Let me stitch up your palm first, and then we'll deal with that, ok?"

Tilly could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest, and she wasn't sure if it was in anticipation of the impending needle or the potential results of the test, but she nodded anyway and sat silently as the doctor repaired her damaged palm.

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When Daryl returned home from his talk with Rick he knew Tilly was home from the familiar sight of her jacket hanging at the bottom of the banister. He took off his own coat and laid it over hers as he did every day. He didn't leave his jacket on hers for the sake of practicality, but rather because he loved the way her scent seemed to make its way from her coat to his. Throughout the day he would catch faint whiffs of her from his collar, and it was a source of comfort for him.

"I'm home, Tills!" he called as he made his way up the stairs, not wanting to startle her since he knew she was already on edge.

"I'm in the bedroom," she replied, and he couldn't help but notice how her voice wavered. Every inch of him ached to destroy Negan for the grief he'd caused her, and he hated that his attempt at comforting her earlier in the day seemingly had no effect.

As he entered their shared room, he saw her sitting on the far edge of the bed, her back to him as she hunched over with her head in her hands. Instinctually, he went and sat at her side, throwing an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into his side.

"Your hand ok?"

Tilly nodded, but her gaze stayed trained toward the floor.

"Is what that prick said earlier still bothering you?" he pried, but was met by only silence. "Talk to me, Matilda."

"That's not it," she answered softly, turning toward him and folding her legs in front of her on the bed.

"What is it, then?"

She sniffed and wiped her face before finally looking him in the eye. She knew this wasn't a secret she should keep, but she was terrified of what his reaction would be. "I need to tell you something, but I'm not sure you're going to be happy about it."

"You're making me nervous, Tilly," Daryl admitted, turning to sit on the bed as well, his own position mirroring hers as he took her clammy hands in his.

"I know we said we wanted this," she began cryptically, trying to find the right words, "but not now. It's the worst possible time."

He continued to stare at her dumbfounded, his brain going a million miles a minute as he struggled to figure out what she was about to tell him.

"It is sort of about Negan," she rambled. "He said something earlier that set off this whole chain of realization in my mind and I had to have Denise check…"

"Spit it out, Matilda," he said gently, unable to handle the suspense.

Tilly cleared her throat and pulled her gaze away from him for a moment before finally making eye contact with him again. He was right, she needed to just spit it out now or she never would. "I'm pregnant, Daryl."

He felt the breath leave his lungs for a moment, her words hitting him like a ton of bricks. Like she'd said, they'd talked about the possibility of having a child in the future, but only once they were out of the woods with the Savior situation. Would he be able to protect her and his unborn child against this mess? Was this situation something Negan would exploit? Would he be as shitty of a father as his own was?

_No,_ he thought, _I know at least the answer to that last question is 'no.'_

"You're making me nervous, Daryl," Tilly's voice cut through his thoughts. "Talk to me. How do you feel about this?"

Her eyes were so hopeful then, and he couldn't bring himself to lay his fears upon her. She was already terrified, he knew that, but she deserved to have that moment be a happy memory. The two of them bringing new life into the world was definitely something to celebrate as far as he was concerned, and he was going to make sure she knew he felt that way.

Once he had cleared his head he didn't have to force the huge smile that spread across his face as he leaned forward to kiss her gently. "I'm gonna be a daddy," he whispered, his forehead against hers. "Far as I'm concerned, having a woman like you willing to make a baby with me makes me about the luckiest man in the world."

"So, you're happy?" Tilly asked tentatively.

He reached his hand forward and pressed it lightly against her stomach. He half-expected to be able to feel the little critter moving around in there, but was met with only a slightly softer version of her normal stomach. Even the slight changes in her made him smile, though, and he wondered momentarily how he hadn't noticed them earlier.

"I've never been happier," he assured her, and she couldn't help but smile back at him as she laid her hand over his. "It ain't gonna be easy, but I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure our family stays safe."

"Our family," she echoed, her smile broadening. "I like the sound of that."


	36. Chapter 36

**This is a short one, but I've left you all hanging long enough so I thought I'd go ahead and throw it out there. We'll get back into the action in the next chapter, but here's some fun stuff for you in the meantime. I hope you enjoy! Leave me a review if you're still reading and let me know what you think (and so I know I'm still writing for someone besides myself haha).**

**Thanks!**

**-B**

"So when is this kid going to make an appearance?" Daryl asked a bit awkwardly, unsure about how to phrase his question as his hand trailed absently over Tilly's abdomen.

She chuckled at his statement, her head still foggy from the bliss of the lovemaking that ensued shortly after she'd let him know he was going to be a father. He had been unable to help himself, despite how stressful the day had been, and in that moment all he wanted to do was have her as close to him as possible. So, there they laid half-underneath the thick quilt that covered their bed, basking in the afterglow of the last hour.

"Denise really just took an educated guess, but she figures I'm about eight weeks along. It'll be a while," she finally replied, "which is probably for the best. It means I can still be useful in a fight for a bit longer."

"I don't want you out in the thick of this," Daryl said gently as he felt the redhead's long fingers begin moving up and down the length of his arm. She knew that gesture was soothing to him, and he was sure she was doing it to keep him from exploding at the idea of her fighting in her state. He wasn't angry with her, but the responsibility to keep her, and his child, from harm had been amplified ten-fold.

"I may not have a choice, Daryl," she countered, turning her head to the side to meet his gaze. "I know I'm responsible for more than just me now, and that isn't something I take lightly, so you can rest assured I'm not going to voluntarily jump into the middle of it. We all have to be ready and able to fight, though; me, Maggie, Carl, the old folks down the block… all of us. It may very well come to that."

"Now that we have at least part of the Hilltop on-board we can start moving forward, get things organized," he observed. "We'll have their people to fight with us so we can keep the ones who shouldn't be in the crossfire safe. That Jesus guy is fucking strange, but he _did_ take down Abe and Michonne on his own. Seems like a good guy to have on our side. Plus, he's gonna get us the shit Eugene needs to start making bullets."

"You really think Eugene can pull that off?" she asked earnestly.

Daryl thought for a moment before nodding. "Talked to Rosita about it a little and she says he's been doing a shit-ton of research. She also swears he's not nearly as stupid as he looks."

"Well, that's a relief," she laughed. "It's gonna take us a couple of months to get this sorted, though. We need to make sure whatever we do is well-hidden since they have a tendency to show up whenever the fuck they want."

"Carol thinks we should hit them the next time they come for supplies," he shared, his face giving away nothing about his feelings for the plan.

"It makes sense," Tilly shrugged. "Like I said, we'll need more time than that, and opening fire inside the walls isn't ideal, but it'd be about like shootin' fish in a barrel. Plus, Negan is prone to wandering off from his men while he's here and all he carries is that goddamn bat. His precious Lucille can't stop a bullet."

Daryl brought the hand that wasn't rubbing her stomach up to his mouth and chewed on his thumbnail as he considered her words. "You have a hand in Carol coming up with this plan?"

She laughed and shook her head as she leaned back further onto her pillow. "No," she answered honestly, "but Carol and I realized pretty early-on how alike we were, so I'm not surprised she drew up something that sounds like it came out of my brain. It's not a plan anyone outside of our group is going to go for, though."

"We can get Aaron in," he shrugged. "Eric, too, by association."

"The other men from the run crew and Holly," she added, the hunter nodding in agreement. "We'll figure it out." She waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to dwell on that conversation any longer.

"Do I have to keep this a secret?" Daryl asked, his blue eyes suddenly shining like a child who just found out their parents were taking them to Disney World.

"The plan?" she teased.

He narrowed his eyes and scowled at her, but he couldn't hide the way his lips were itching to curl into a smile. "You know I ain't talkin' about the plan, woman." He moved his hand from her stomach to her ribs and tickled her lightly, making her squirm as she laughed.

She shoved at his hands in an attempt to escape, and he allowed her to move away after a moment. "It doesn't have to be a secret if you don't want it to be," she answered as she tried to catch her breath.

"Hell no," he smiled, sitting up on the bed and pulling her over to sit in his lap, "I want everyone to know that's my kid in there." He once more laid his hand against her belly, as he'd found himself subconsciously doing since the moment he'd found out about the child's existence. If he couldn't hold it in his arms yet, he was going to get as close as possible in the meantime.

"You can tell," Tilly chuckled, "but only if you promise you're not going to stick this baby with a ridiculous nickname like you did poor Judy."

"Can't help it 'Asskicker' suits her," he shrugged. "Plus, she likes it. I'll do my best with this one, but no guarantees."

"I guess that's as close to a promise as I'm gonna get."

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"You got a minute, Maggie?"

The brunette smiled as Tilly popped her head into the tower where she was keeping watch. "Course," she nodded. "I still have another two hours up here, so as long as it stays quiet I have all the time in the world."

She nodded and went to lean against the window sill, copying Maggie's stance minus the sniper rifle the brunette held in her arms. "You're pregnant," Tilly blurted. It wasn't a question, and Maggie's eyes went wide as soon as she'd processed the words.

"Did Glenn tell you?" she huffed. "I swear, that man can't keep a secret to save his life."

Tilly chuckled as she shook her head. "I just had a suspicion, which you obviously just confirmed. How ya feeling about it?"

Maggie spun around to lean her back against the wall adjacent to the window and crossed her arms over her chest. "Better now," she admitted. "Glenn's burstin' at the seams, but what happened with Lori-" She shook her head, trying to cast away the images that would be burned into her brain until the day she died. "But I've had a lot of time to work through it, and I've decided I'm happy about it." She ran her hands lightly over her stomach, momentarily revealing the small bump that had been concealed under her loose shirt. "Daddy and Beth would both be thrilled, and that's enough for me."

"Beth would be over-the-moon," Tilly smiled. "I know how strongly she felt for Judy. I can only imagine how she'd be with your baby."

Maggie nodded, a sad smile playing on her own lips. "We're going to tell everyone tomorrow at dinner. I can't really hide it much longer, and Glenn, like I said, can't keep a secret without it completely devouring him."

That drew a chuckle from the redhead. Maggie had told her previously about their time on the farm and his inability to keep both her father's penchant for keeping walkers in the barn and Lori's pregnancy to himself. It was an almost childlike quality and, while it may have been a bit obnoxious for Maggie, Tilly found it endearing.

"I have a secret myself," Tilly responded quietly, quirking her eyes over toward her friend.

Maggie frowned for a moment as she pondered her statement, then she threw her arms out to the sides as if she'd been hit by a bullet. "Oh my god, Tilly!" she gasped, grinning widely. "Are you serious?"

Tilly laughed as she nodded, amused by Maggie's reaction. "We don't want to steal your thunder or anything, but-"

"No!" Maggie insisted, quickly rushing forward and tightly embracing the other woman. "You're not stealing anything! I'm so glad I'll have you to go through this with me."

"Look at us repopulating the world and shit," Tilly laughed as Maggie finally released her hold, her hand sliding down to Tilly's stomach.

"Do you know how far along you are?" the brunette pried.

"Eight weeks or so," she replied. "Denise had to make a guess based on when I _think_ my last period was. How about you?"

"Twelve weeks, based on my count," Maggie answered. "What's Daryl think?"

Tilly smiled at the memory of his reaction. She'd been terrified to tell him, but in the end, as usual, he'd surprised her. "He seems pretty damn excited. He got all handsy and then asked if he could tell everyone."

"He's such a softy," Maggie laughed, before her face dropped in mock-seriousness. "Don't tell him I said that, though."

"Your secret's safe with me." Tilly pretended to cross her heart with her index finger.

"Ya know," Maggie began, "if you can catch him before he tells anyone we can announce together tomorrow night. That'd be a pretty great way to get everyone's minds off all this other crap going on for a second."

"You think the others will be happy?"

Maggie shrugged. "They'll be concerned, I'm sure, because they care about us, but they'll be happy. We came here to start a new life, and how better to make that happen than to, ya know, _actually_ create new life?"

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It had been a bit of a struggle for Tilly to quickly track Daryl down when she bolted out of the watch tower after her conversation with Maggie. She drew quite a few odd looks as she sped through the streets of Alexandria, hoping to catch the hunter before he opened his mouth to anyone. When she finally found him standing in the garden speaking with Carol, she assumed she'd already missed the boat. Surely, as close as he and the older woman were, he had already told her.

"Hey, guys!" Tilly greeted them, out of breath from her impromptu sprint through town. Her sweaty appearance drew concerned looks from both Carol and Daryl, but she held up a hand to assure them that nothing was wrong. "Everything's fine, I just need to borrow Daryl for a minute if that's alright."

"Of course," Carol smiled, patting Daryl lightly on the arm before she grabbed her basket off of the ground and made her way into the commissary.

"You alright?" Daryl asked quickly once Carol was out of sight. "You should be restin', not running around gettin' yourself all worked up."

Tilly couldn't help but find his concern sweet, and she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him against her. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm suddenly made of glass," she said into his neck. "I just wanted to catch you before you talked to anyone else. Did you tell Carol?"

"Nah," he shook his head as Tilly pulled away a bit to look him in the eye. "Was about to, but then you came boltin' in here like a bat outta Hell."

"Good," Tilly laughed. "I just talked to Maggie. I was right about her being pregnant, too. She and Glenn are going to announce at Rick's tomorrow night and she suggested we make it a joint affair."

To be honest, the idea sounded a little corny for his taste, but he couldn't ignore the hope shining from her beautiful blue eyes. He was always completely powerless when she looked through those long lashes at him, and he couldn't find it within himself to tell her no.

"If that's what ya want," he smiled, smoothing her wind-rumpled hair away from her face. "Your hair's gettin' long," he mentioned off-handedly as he admired the strawberry waves that fell over her shoulders.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled. "Need to get Jessie to hack some of it off."

Daryl shook his head. "You can do what ya want, but I like it. Looks pretty."

It always felt odd to hear words like "pretty" come out of Daryl. He wasn't one for flowery language, but he seemed to make the occasional exception when it came to letting Tilly know just how much he treasured her. The moments when he let those words slip were little bursts of light, "bright spots" as Glenn had called them once-upon-a-time, and she treasured each and every one.

"So tomorrow, then?" she asked once more, confirming they were on the same page one more time.

Daryl nodded and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "Don't like waitin' much, but anything for you."

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"Maggie's pregnant," Glenn beamed as he stood in the front of Rick's living room, his hat held tightly in his left hand and his right arm draped over his wife's shoulders.

There were a few happy gasps from amongst the group, but before anyone could say anything Daryl stood from his spot on the arm of the recliner where Tilly sat.

"Tilly, too," he said matter-of-factly, gesturing toward the redhead. He tried to play it cool, but he couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on his face.

That caused the room to fall into stunned silence for a moment as they all processed the double-surprise. Tilly's heart soared at her lover's expression, but she was still a bit on-edge as they awaited the group's reaction.

"Well, fuck me!" Abraham chuckled heartily, breaking the silence as he raised his glass into the air. "Congratulations, y'all!" He turned toward Judith, who was cluelessly drinking from her sippy cup on the floor next to him. "Ya hear that, Judy?" he cooed as he smiled down at her sweet, confused face and clinked his class into her cup gently. "You're gettin' some new little cousins!"

The others laughed at that, and Tilly made a mental note to thank Abe later for being the one to break the tension. Gauging from the way they all slowly made their way over to the couples to offer their well-wishes it seemed they were happy for them after all.

"Didn't think ya had it in ya, son," the sergeant teased as he gave Glenn a rough hug.

The only person who was really bothered by the news was Rick, but the leader refused to show it. He owed both Glenn and Daryl his life, Maggie and Tilly having saved his ass many times as well, and he wasn't about to ruin their happiness. He couldn't help but feel jealous, though.

He thought back to when he found out Lori was pregnant with Judith. It wasn't a joyous announcement for them. It was tainted with the fear of bringing a baby into that terrifying world, and the somehow even greater fear that the baby wasn't even his. To be honest, the more Judy grew and began to develop more distinct features the more he was sure Shane was her biological father. Despite how things had ended between them, he would always feel a tinge of guilt that he'd been the one to ensure his best friend wasn't around to see his daughter grow up. All he could do to somehow make it right was to love her as his own.

He'd always wanted another child with his wife, and he couldn't help but feel like that was stolen from him when the world changed. He'd long since given up on the childish notion that life was fair, though. He'd done more terrible, unmentionable things than he could count, and he couldn't help but feel like the pang in his heart at what happened between him and Lori was some sort of karma.

As he stared out at his new family, though, he was reminded of why he'd done those things. He did it so they could have moments like that one. They were all smiling and toasting to new life in a place that was as safe as they could hope for.

He studied Glenn as he stood beside his glowing wife, his hand laid lovingly over her stomach as his face beamed with excitement. Glenn was the person he'd known the longest of any of them, other than Carl. He'd seen him in moments of weakness and desperation, but the young man had never lost his humanity. Rick knew he would do whatever he needed to do, even if it meant losing himself in the process, if he knew it would allow Glenn to hang onto the hope that shone so brightly on his tanned face.

Daryl, as usual, was a bit more subdued, but he was smiling wider than Rick had ever seen. The hunter would occasionally glance over to Tilly as she chatted happily with Carol and, though it seemed impossible, his smile would grow even bigger.

It was obvious to everyone that Daryl had become Rick's right-hand long ago. He trusted the man with his life and, more importantly, the lives of the people he loved. He'd seen him lose hope time and time again, when he lost Merle, when Beth was taken after the prison, and once more when Tilly was dragged away by the Saviors after pushing him out of the path of Lucille. He just hoped that his surrogate brother had forgiven himself and knew that he deserved this spot of happiness.

There was no doubting in that moment what Rick had to do. He needed to eliminate any and all threats to his family. He was going to make sure the joy that resonated in that room wouldn't be short-lived. He began formulating a plan in his brain, and though it would mean putting his trust in a complete stranger, he knew it was worth the risk.


End file.
